


Behind The Mask

by estel_willow



Category: American Idol RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe, Humor, M/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-06-09
Updated: 2010-06-09
Packaged: 2017-10-10 00:26:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 37,835
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/93270
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/estel_willow/pseuds/estel_willow
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Everybody winds up kissing the wrong person goodnight</p><p><i>In which Adam is definitely not Cinderella and Kris is a fairy</i></p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Based off a prompt at the most recent round of Kradam_Kiss over on LJ.

Chance meetings, as one would have it, always happened to Adam Lambert when he was drunk, or at least tispy. Now, he'd never considered himself to be any kind of Cinderella, or Prince Charming, for that matter, but somehow he'd been talked into coming to this stupid masquerade ball that Cassidy had decided they simply had to go to dressed as just that; Prince Charming. He had the cravat and the almost jodhpurs, except they weren't. He'd managed to get away with wearing something far more fashionable, black trousers - skin tight of course - and an intricate jacket with a long tail and chains that sparkled when he moved. His platforms were sleek and fabulous and black so that he matched. His brother always taunted him about his collection of shoes. Adam didn't care; Neil was an idiot and everyone knew it. The mask was stuck to his face with something "like tit-tape" (according to Danielle and Brad) and he had decided that he was never going to listen to them again because whilst it meant he didn't mess up his perfectly 'hawked hair with annoying things like string or elastic, it also meant it was going to be a bitch to get off later and he had a photoshoot in the morning. The make up girls were not going to love him if they had to cover great big angry red marks around his eyes.

At some point during the night, he'd lost the friends that he'd come with, but since they'd roped him into this party in the first place, straight people left, right and center he wasn't all that sure that he should go and find them. They didn't deserve to have all the fun they could do when they were with him. But then... he had come with this Andrew guy, and Andrew was his kind-of boyfriend and they were supposed to be having a night out together to see if it was worth going past the 'let's have sex all the time' stage to having an actual relationship. Adam wasn't sure he was the right kind of guy for it, but he wouldn't know until he gave the kid a chance. So he was giving him a chance.

Maybe he should go and find Andrew, if not the rest of his lame-ass friends. They could all go swing for dragging him there and then letting him get lost. Stupid friends.

*

Kris Allen hated parties. He'd never been one to go out and get drunk, he preferred staying in with a movie, his guitar, a bunch of friends and some weed. That was far more enjoyable for him than getting dressed up and being surrounded by people who clearly had miracle-gro in their shoes when they were children because everyone here in LA was huge. It was one of the hardest things for him to come to terms with, the women were tall and the men were tall. Kris had never felt so small.

Charles had told him that LA was what he needed, to get out of the small town and get famous. Of course, Charles had had to come along for the ride too since it was his idea and so far all Kris seemed to have done in LA was try and find a job - to pay the rent - and meet glamourous people. It was a strange life. Charles was loving it. Kris missed the simplicity of his life back home, the reassurance of having had a solid girlfriend for such a long time. His decision to finally give in to Charles' bitching had happened after she'd left him. _I'm not what you really want_ she'd said, _You're not happy, you might think you are, but you're not_ and he'd been so mad at her for telling him what he did and didn't feel that he'd just walked out and announced that they were going to LA.

He kind of regretted that decision now, but it was easier to be bisexual in LA than in Conway. At least here everyone seemed to make out with everyone. LA was friendly that way, or something. He wasn't sure on that bit just yet.

But this party was being thrown by some DJ and Charles had wrangled invites and it was rude not to go, apparently, and he had to go in fancy dress, apparently, and it was a masquerade thing so Kris had to wear a mask, apparently. Lost for costume ideas, Charles and their new friend Cale had thought it would be a hillarious idea to dress Kris up as a fairy.

He'd drawn a line at a dress, but he was wearing jeans and a t-shirt and a huge, elabourate pair of fairy wings on his back. They were heavy and the tube of glitter they'd upended over his head was itching a little where it was sticking to his skin. He felt sweaty and gross underneath the mask and he just wanted to go home, if only he could find his friends.

Of course, in a thriving crowd of people, that was always a little more easily said than done. It's hard to see anything over the mass of costumed people but it's worth a try and Kris knew from experience that the wings were hard and kind of heavy. Good for getting around people.

So, he squared his shoulders and off he went.

*

Kris had been walking around for about ten minutes when he still found no signs of anyone he knew. It sucked because he wanted to go home and get out of the wings and shower because there was way too much glitter and he was only half gay. He wasn't completely gay and he drew the line at being showered in glitter and dressed up like some kind of hick fairy.

The weird thing was, he'd seen a fair few people dressed as fairies over the course of the night. Most of them were wearing rather less clothing than he was though, but there was one guy wandering around in jeans and wings and it even looked like he had a shirt on. In fact, he'd decided if he needed a doppleganger, that was the guy he'd look up because they did look uncannily similar. At least, in costume.

Adam was only human. He'd had a couple of drinks and was dutifully looking for his sort-of-but-kind-of-not boyfriend so that he could say goodnight to him and then leave. That was totally his intention, but then he saw Andrew - at least, he thought it was Andrew - looking all adorable, hot and lost in the crowd, chewing on his lower lip (was it that full before or had something magical happened? Because the lower half of Andrew's face suddenly got really hot) and Adam just wandered over and came to a halt in front of him.

"Hey," he started and "Andrew" looked up at him. Adam didn't give him a chance to reply before he was kissing him, leaning down and sealing their lips together. He'd kissed Andrew a hundred times so he wasn't sure what made this one so different, but the moment their lips touched, he felt like someone had charged an electric current through him. He'd stood on a livewire and now he was suffering because of it, only instead of being electrocuted he was more turned on than he'd been his entire life. He bit at that full lower lip, catching it between his teeth and rolling his tongue over it, delighting in the hitched breath as arms came up around his shoulders and into his hair. He didn't care that his 'do was getting messed up, this kiss was totally worth it.

Kris was confused as fuck. This gorgeous stranger had just swept in and kissed him, dressed as Prince Charming of all things (and wasn't the irony in that abundantly clear?) and Kris was helpless. He reached up, buried his hands in that thick dark hair and kissed back with everything he had.

Tongues duelled and hands wandered, through hair and down bodies leaving trembles and tingles in their wake. Bodies moved together, pushed and separated a fraction by the crowds swarming around them but neither man knew or cared because this was a perfect moment. Only one of them knew that they were kissing a stranger, but neither of them cared.

When it was over and lungs were burning, lips were swollen and two minds were very much in the gutter, Adam leaned back, letting Kris stand flat on his feet again and they just looked at each other for a moment, breathing heavily. Kris' hands were still looped around Adam's neck, and one of Adam's hands was cradling the back of Kris' skull, the other at the base of his spine, the tip of his finger underneath the waistband of Kris' jeans.

The realisation that it wasn't Andrew filtered in instantly. He should have known, he'd never connected with anyone in a kiss the way he had this fairy stranger. His mouth opened to give apology after apology when he remembered that he'd been kissed back. That was important to remember; he'd been kissed back and that was something to remember.

That meant it wasn't just a one sided thing, or even if it was, then the fairy hadn't minded being kissed so it was all good.

Kris, too, wanted to say something but he was pretty sure all the words had been kissed out of his mouth, but he wanted to talk to the dark haired stranger, get his name and his number and probably a whole lot more than that besides but he didn't get a chance.

"KRIS!" Charles yelled, appearing through the crowd and breaking the spell that had fallen over the two men. "Fuck's sake, we were beginning to think you'd been kidnapped or something."

"Kris-napped," Cale added, dropping into place beside Charles. Kris' friends had perpetually bad timeing.

"We're leaving, you coming?" Charles asked, not waiting for an answer before he was tugging on Kris' arm and pulling him away from Prince Charming.

"I-"

Adam watched as Kris - a name to add to that awesome mouth - was pulled away, and all he could do was lift a hand and give a lame-ass wave goodbye. Kris managed the same and Adam wondered if it was because he didn't really want to leave.

He hoped so.

LA might have been a small place, but it was never quite small enough, and he felt disappointed when he actually did find Andrew and kissed him goodbye. It was anticlimactic and completely not at all spectacular. No fireworks. He told him then and there _It's not going to work out between us_ and left, feeling oddly empty because Kris the Fairy wasn't in his life.

He hit the sidewalk and blew out a breath. Well. Never mind. If they were meant to meet again, they would. And after a kiss like that?

Well, Adam was positive that it was meant to be.


	2. Behind the Mask II

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Kris is still not a fairy and he's not at all obsessing.
> 
> _ And one random kiss, one random _incredible_ kiss that might have tipped the balance of Kris' bisexuality was not worth focusing on. It was completely not worth focusing on. Nope. So he didn't.  
> _

When he wasn't out gallivanting as a fairy, Kris actually worked two jobs - because Charles was lame and got them an apartment where the rent wasn't set and after a week of living there it was pushed up. He spent what time he wasn't sleeping or eating working between a music store (where he was allowed to sit and play on the piano and the guitars during the lulls) and a coffee shop (which he hated because every day without fail he burned himself or scalded himself with boiling hot water). But they needed the money, and Charles lifted boxes or something like that to pay the rent. Kris didn't actually know what a runner did, but Charles enjoyed it and bought semi-famous people into the coffee shop where Kris worked occasionally.

The party had been three days ago and Kris had been thinking - obsessing - over the Prince Charming that had kissed him. Every time he saw some tall guy with dark hair walk past the door, his heart skipped a beat and his chest tightened in anticipation. He wondered when he'd turned into a teenaged girl; he was a big boy, and he certainly didn't need someone to come in and sweep him off his feet or steal him away from his terrible life. His life was fine, thank you very much. And one random kiss, one random _incredible_ kiss that might have tipped the balance of Kris' bisexuality was not worth focusing on. It was completely not worth focusing on. Nope. So he didn't.

At least, that's what he told himself and everyone else that asked about the party. He told himself that he wasn't watching out for the man to suddenly appear and kiss him again. Of course, Kris figured he wouldn't recognise the guy even if he did see him again. They'd both been in costume, after all, and people looked very different when they were in every day clothes. Kris, for instance, did not have wings nor glitter. Well, the latter was a bit of a lie; Kris still found glitter on his pillow because that stuff sticks to you like anything. Julie - his boss at the coffee house - had picked some off his cheek just ten minutes ago and had shook her head, equal parts amused and despairing.

But that wasn't the point. The point was that Kris was absolutely not obsessing over some guy that had kissed him probably thinking that he was someone else. Besides, they hadn't spoken at all. He supposed words were redundant when you were playing tonsil hockey with someone, but a name would have been nice. At least then Kris could stop calling him 'Prince Charming' in his head and that would halt Kris' growing worry that he was actually turning into a princess.

He definitely didn't care. It was LA. People did that all the time if you believed books and movies and stuff. Kris didn't, so he knew it was just a drunken thing that had happened and a case of mistaken identity and so what if that kiss had felt perfect? So what if he'd felt like he'd kissed those lips before a hundred times over the course of history? So what? It didn't matter. Not at all. Because it was just some random guy and a random kiss and it was Kris' _first random kiss with a guy_. Maybe being kind of gay was like being a virgin. The first person that takes it away automatically becomes something special inside your head, a building up of expectations that no actual human being could meet because it's a fantasy? Kris liked that idea. Rationalising was good. It was his friend.

He'd been so distracted by pointedly not obsessing over Prince Charming that he wasn't quite quick enough to move when Tina knocked over a cup of fresh coffee. It went all over Kris.

So that was how Kris ended up nursing another burned hand, damp strips of cloth wrapped around the swell of his thumb as he bussed tables, collecting coffee cups awkwardly. Trying to do everything with one hand and three fingers was hard, and at least this time the injury wasn't his fault. He was a little worried because it hurt to move his thumb and he needed his hand to be in good working order for when he played later on at one of the smaller bars that had open mic nights.

He wrinkled his nose as he had precariously balanced the weight of the cups on the tray that lay flat against his palm. If he could get this back to the counter...

He turned around and stopped short because there was a chest in his way. The tray tilted in slow motion and Kris could already envisage the cups falling, slipping and sliding away and down onto the floor, Julie's shout as he dropped to his knees to clean it up. That would be coming out of his pay and he couldn't afford to have anything docked at the moment...

None of this happened, though, because the arm that was attached to The Chest shot out and held onto the edge of the tray. One of the cups fell over and dribbled its contents onto the tray like an over enthusiastic toddler but that was all that happened. Crisis averted, Kris looked up to see who it was he had to thank and offer free coffee to. He wasn't expecting to see a tall, dark Adonis looking down at him with a small smile on his lips.

Kris felt something in his brain break.

"I- uh- thanks," he said inarticulately, throat working because suddenly - as well as turning into an idiot - he couldn't swallow. "You- that woulda been messy."

He blinked a couple of times up at the stranger and looked oddly familiar but then Kris was aware that he didn't know all the regulars officially, so maybe the guy came in here all the time and Kris is just stupid, because he's an idiot now. The guy's eyes were an insane blue-grey colour that Kris knew he'd seen before, but damn if he couldn't remember where.

"No problem," the tall stranger said as he actually took the tray from Kris' hands. He seemed to be nice enough, putting it on the counter and when he turned back to look at Kris, his eyes dropped to the stupid name tag that they all had to wear. Like wearing lame uniforms wasn't identification enough. His expression changed as those eyes fell on the peeling tag that read _Kris_ and had a little picture of a guitar next to it.

"Kris, huh?" he said and Kris felt his knees go a little weak. The guy's voice was like honey and sugar and something else amazing and wonderful that Kris couldn't put words to. He wet his lower lip, like he wanted to say something else.

Kris, still in idiot mode just nodded his head, "Yeah, with a 'K'."

He was rewarded with a chuckle and one midnight blue polished finger poked his name tag. "I can see that."

There was an electric charge in the air, a weight of expectation for some reason. Kris maybe thought that this stranger thought he was someone else (and wasn't that a running theme in his life with hot men right now) because of the way that he was being looked at. Those intense eyes slid over his lips and Kris wet them without really thinking.

The next thing he knew, one self-manicured hand was curling in the front of his stupid green apron and pulling him closer. Lips pressed together and Kris knew from that first jolt why the guy looked familiar.

It was _him_. Prince Charming. Prince fucking Charming had just walked into his coffee shop and found him and kissed him in front of everybody. Kris didn't know whether or not to be mortified or turned on and somehow found himself doing both. He kissed back, though his body had kind of frozen and it was taking all of his brain-power to just respond, let alone move.

It felt like a missing piece of Kris' puzzle was being slotted back into place as he stood up on his tip-toes to catch Prince Charming's lower lip with his teeth, surprising himself with how bold he was being and being oddly delighted with the shivered growl he got as a reward.

"Kris!" Julie's voice cut through the haze of being kissed, meaning he had to pull back otherwise it would have gone a lot further, he was pretty sure. His eyes fluttered open and Prince Charming was looking a little sheepish, rubbing the back of his neck and glancing around. He chuckled softly, like it was okay for them to have made out in the middle of the day in a coffee house. "Quit canoodling and get back to work. Just because you have a burnt hand doesn't mean you can start acting like a princess."

Prince Charming laughed as Kris did at the unintentional irony of her comment. Kris felt his chest skip a beat when he was touched again, just a brush of fingertips over his cheek. There was something in Charming's eyes that made Kris want to reach out and grab him, it looked like the guy was about to leave and they'd only exchanged a few words, and none of those words were his name or cell number.

"I- gotta-" Kris started and Prince Charming leaned down and pressed another kiss against his lips, just chaste and light, like he was checking something out. "-get back to work," he finished lamely and Prince Charming just nodded. Apparently that tiny kiss had satisfied him. It hadn't satisfied Kris. Kris wanted more, which was odd because he was pretty sure he wasn't supposed to feel like that after two - three - kisses with someone whose name he didn't even know. Maybe it was one of those LA things that he didn't understand yet because he was just an ordinary kid from Arkansas that came out to follow his dream.

"Yeah. Me too." A glance at the door revealed a man in a suit and sunglasses looking distinctly unimpressed at whatever Prince Charming was doing, and it was only then that Kris noticed there were photographers lined up outside the windows taking pictures. That made him a little uncomfortable. What were they doing outside? And who was the man in a suit? He looked huge. "See you around?"

He turned and started to head towards the door when Kris finally regained the ability to speak and spun on his heel. "Wait!" Charming did. "What's your name?"

For some reason - maybe because he'd been wrapped up and caught in Charming's gravitational pull - Kris hadn't noticed how weird everyone was acting. Now he did and Charming smiled softly. It made his eyes crease in the corners and he looked ten years younger. People had started talking now, whispering and a lot of it sounded incredulous. Why would they be incredulous?

"Adam," he said finally and Kris felt that it suited him. "Adam Lambert." The door was pulled open and there was a sudden rush of noise, voices overlapping each other as everyone tried to be heard, Adam's name was being clamoured by the people with cameras. _Reporters, dumbass_ his brain offered him helpfully. "See you around, Kris."

Kris just watched him leave, the big man in a suit and sunglasses helping him through the throng of people and all he could think was _Adam Lambert. Why do I know that name?_


	3. Behind the Mask III

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Adam was a great believer in fate.

Okay, so maybe Adam was a little bit pathetic. Being famous had its advantages, one of which was being able to pay people to look through the phone book and find people called Kris (with a K) and secretly go out and find pictures of those people and then report back to Adam. It was more than a 'little bit' lame, he had to admit, even if it was only secretly because if anyone called him lame he would protest his complete and total non-lameness until the day he died. Bordering more on pathetic and stalkerish considering how many people called 'Kris' had suddenly appeared out of the woodwork. It was always the case; when you wanted to find one person, a hundred million people appeared.

Adam Lambert was a great believer in fate. He always had been. A lot of people used to give him shit for it but then they were all straight and stupid and Adam had always known he was right, so it didn't matter anyway. He also had a type and that was something he got teased for. Brad, Andrew, Kris with a K... everyone kind of fell into the shorter, younger, brunette category, but Adam had never felt complete. Not until he'd kissed that glittery fairy at the party. He'd looked so out of place and Adam had honest ly thought that he was Andrew, but he wasn't and God he was glad.

If Kris wasn't his soulmate, then Adam was going to have to renege on 27 years of spiritual beliefs. If Kris wasn't his soulmate, then there was something fundamentally wrong with the world and the reboot button needed to be pressed.

Of course, he'd found the guy in a series of events that he had decided was the Universe's way of pointing out to him that yes, Kris was in fact the one man he was supposed to spend all of eternity with, and it had nothing to do with the people on his payroll that were supposed to find Kris for him. His car had broken down and he'd been wanting coffee anyway, so the fact that he walked into the coffee shop where Kris was working was just perfect.

After the kiss - that had been nowhere near long enough, deep enough or dirty enough for Adam's liking - he'd had to leave; his bodyguard was unimpressed that he was making a scene and there had been photographers outside just waiting for a seedy story. Since he hadn't kissed Kris with tongue, grabbed him and shoved him up against the wall like he wanted to, whatever pictures they might have gotten were relatively tame in comparison to some of the ones of Adam out there. All one had to do was google his name. But the fact remained that now Adam had sprung two surprise!kisses on Kris and both times Kris had kissed back, even if he'd been more enthusiastic in the club. That might have been because Kris wasn't surrounded by his workmates, but whatever. Details, details.

"I know that look," Brad drawled as he dropped down over the back of Adam's couch to sprawl over the black leather. He was wearing pants that were about two sizes too small and a shirt he'd made out of a pair of tights, but he somehow managed to pull it off without looking like a total douche. A talent only Brad possessed, well, Brad and Adam himself, of course. "You're scheming."

"I'm not scheming," Adam felt the need to defend himself, even though yeah, he kind of was. "I'm just thinking. He didn't know who I was, you know?"

"Yeah, I know, you've told me about fifty times already today. He didn't know who you were and he asked for your name. It's novel and cute and probably totally fake because, honey, you're, well, _you_ and everyone knows who you are unless they're a terrorist and have been living in a cave for the last three years."

Adam liked to pretend he kept Brad around as eye candy, but really his ex boyfriend was as close to a best friend as Adam had, and more than that, Brad was one of the only people completely unaffected by Adam's rocket-powered launch into stardom. Brad was real and kept Adam real. He took no shit from anyone, especially not Adam.

"So you think he's just another groupie with an innovative new way of getting into my pants?" Adam asked, tipping his head as if he was actually thinking about it. His eyeliner was probably smudged beyond repair, he'd been trying to write earlier and it was all over his fingertips, so it was more than likely streaming down his face too. "I could handle that, he's- _Ow!_ Hey!"

The pillow Brad had thrown at him had smacked him square in the face and if Adam's hair wasn't already messed up from him putting his hands in it, he would have killed Brad for screwing up his 'do. "What was that for?!"

Brad looked bored. "You were about to say that he was cute and would be worth you selling your soul for. Look, the last kid that seemed-"

"He's not a kid," Adam groused, "he's at least the same age as you."

Brad just flashed his teeth and continued as if Adam hadn't spoken. "-like he was all cute and innocent and didn't know who you were turned around and sold the sordid bathroom sex story to the world and his fucking wife and who was left to pick up the pieces? Sandy and me. Me and Sandy. I'm breaking some kind of ex-boyfriend law by even being here with you! I shouldn't be here!"

Adam laughed, "You're here because, unlike my last boyfriend, you're not an asshole."

"I'm here because you've got the gravitational pull of a black hole and I can't get away." Brad retorted, inspecting his nails before he stretched and stood up off the couch. He came to a stop in front of Adam, looking up into the singer's eyes. His dark brown gaze bore into Adam's lighter one, like he was trying to weight up all the problems in the world just with that eye contact alone.

When he was satisfied with whatever it was he'd seen in Adam's eyes, he frowned a little and took a step backwards. "You really like him, huh."

"It's stupid, I know," Adam quickly said, like he needed to rationalise his sudden obsession with this nobody from nowhere that he'd kissed one night and now couldn't stop thinking about. "But I really- I feel like I _should_ know him. I- I mean he's cute and all but I want to actually get to know him."

Brad rolled his eyes. "God, if he breaks your heart..."

Adam was about to respond when his phone buzzed. The iPhone he'd been given by Sandy, his publicist, when he'd "lost" his other one (and to be fair, when he was drunk and high, trying to see if his phone could swim had seemed like a perfectly good idea), had her number programmed into it and because she had access to his account, he couldn't block her number.

The text message had a link in it. It said simply, _READ. =| _

When he tapped on the link with his thumb, it bought up the E! online blog and there was a picture of him and Kris kissing. The image bought the whole event back in glorious technicolour as Adam's senses betrayed him and let him remember how it felt to tug Kris close, taste him on the edge of his tongue. Kris had smelt like soap and coffee and pine - for some random reason - and another scent that he couldn't pin down. He'd tasted like mint and there had been a hint of cookie there too. Something that had intregued Adam to no end.

Underneath it was the headline: _Adam Lambert in public make-out scandal!_ and the one-liner: _Singer Adam Lambert, 27, was seen today kissing an employee of The Coffee House, an inside source says Adam does not have a boyfriend at the time and does not know who this mystery man is._

"I think it's going to be more of a case of me breaking his heart, but the thought's appreciated," Adam muttered as he closed the window and sent a text back to his publicist saying - in far fewer words of course - that she should have dealt with that because now Kris was going to get freaked out and run the fuck away and if he never got a steady boyfriend ever it would be her fault. But more politely, of course.

"Are you all over the internet already you whore?" Brad asked, a little bit gleeful until Adam leaned over and flicked his temple slightly harder than was actually necessary.

It wasn't like he hadn't been expecting it, but now he really needed to actually talk to Kris, not just walk up and kiss him, as temping as that idea might have been. "I think I need to-"

"-exchange words and not saliva?" Brad finished helpfully with another little grin and he skipped backwards a couple of steps so that Adam couldn't flick him again. Well, he could have done, but that would have required movement and Adam most definitely did not feel the need to expend energy on his crazy-ass ex boyfriend.

"Talk to him." Adam said as a correction, "Because yeah, I think I need his phone number."

"Hard to get when all you're thinking about is dropping to your knees and making him see God."

"I hate you so much," Adam groaned, rubbing his hand over his head and then though his hair. He could feel the cool metal of his rings against his scalp, the way that the couple of oversized ones he wore caught and snagged in his hair. "I should fire you and get a new best friend."

"Honey, no one could put up with you that isn't me," Brad said unhelpfully. "I knew you before... this." He waved a hand to indicate Adam's fame. "And I still love you, but newbies won't appreciate all that history. Most people only see the money and the fame you know? And want to know if you scream when you come in the same way that you do when you're singing."

Adam's cheeks flushed, giving away the fact that he was actually a secret red-head. "You have to stop looking at those blogs."

"But they're fun and I enjoy seeing how deluded some people are." Brad twirled on the spot and then snatched Adam's phone out of his hand. "And you don't, by the way. Much more growly and manly."

As Brad was walking away to help himself to left-over take out from Adam's fridge, Adam found himself seriously realising that he needed new friends.

Unfortunately, he knew from personal experience, trying to find new friends was impossible because most people sucked. In the past, it had been a case of people wanting to just have their fifteen minutes of fame, get their pictures taken and use Adam's contacts to get their paws (or claws, in most cases) into the industry, be it the music one or the acting one. Some people wanted to use his fashion friends to become models.

It was the main reason that Adam had kept the same friends since he came to LA because none of them took any shit and they stopped him from becoming a diva. A lot of media outlets tried to make him a diva and sometimes it was fun to play up to the image, but most of the time it just irritated him.

"You can't go back there." Brad called over his shoulder from where he was waist-deep in Adam's fridge, looking for something to eat.

"What? I wasn't-"

"You were thinking of going back to that shitty little coffee house and giving that Kris your number, or getting his so you can convince him that he wants to come be your new little sex buddy."

Adam just narrowed his eyes at Brad and grabbed his jacket. "I hope you get food poisoning, you ass." It was said without heat, but Adam did not appreciate Brad saying that he was shallow. It always got to him a lot more when someone he knew and cared about said it.

Whatever Brad might have said was lost in the shutting of the door behind Adam as he left his apartment, but he came back in a few moment later because he realised that he actually looked like crap and there was no way he was going to go and see Kris looking like that.

"Don't say anything," he warned Brad as he walked past his friend - again - and towards the bathroom, pushing the door shut behind himself. He could hear Brad laughing and then the microwave was humming and Adam decided that he was going to ignore it all in favour of putting his face on and getting out of his house again to go and see Kris with a K.

It took him twenty minutes to be happy with how he looked and then he walked past Brad again without speaking to him because he was still trying to be mad at his friend who - Adam knew - was mocking him in his head.

Another twenty minutes later had him back at the coffee house and he was chewing on his lower lip, feeling weirdly nervous. People were staring at him again and he didn't care normally but today there was something about seeing Kris now that he'd given the guy his name... He wondered if it changed everything.

His cell phone vibrated in his pocket and it was with a message from his publicist telling him to get his ass back into the studio ten minutes ago or she was quitting and taking all of his sordid secrets with her. He loved Sandy.

"Can I get you something or are you just gonna stand there and stare into the abyss?" a familiar voice asked, a hint of a smirk in the tone and Adam blinked down into a familiar pair of brown eyes. God, Kris had caught him staring into space. Could he be more of a teenaged girl? Sandy's message was weighing on his mind and his phone vibrated again as if to remind him that he had places to be and couldn't grab Kris, sit him on the counter and kiss him until he was nothing but a puddle of want and need. Adam wondered what sounds Kris would make when he finally got to explore the length of his neck, and... other things.

"Kris," he said finally, pulling himself from the stupor that seemed to fall over him when he looked at Kris. Yeah, they were supposed to be. The Universe didn't make mistakes like this.

"Adam," Kris replied, lips twisted into an infuriatingly cute smirk. There was a lot Adam wanted to say; he wanted to give Kris his number and then take his so that they could speak on the phone and actually exchange words, have a conversation, but one glance down at those lips and Adam's plans rapidly changed.

Yeah, he wasn't doing a very good job of proving he wasn't a slave to his libido.

Reaching out and catching Kris' chin with finger and thumb, Adam tipped Kris' head back and leaned down, pressing a feather-light kiss to that mouth. Kris reacted instantly, hand moving to curl around Adam's wrist, kissing back but keeping it chaste because they were in public. Adam hated that they were in public and there were people watching.

It was that thought - the idea of more cameras getting images of something that he really wanted to keep to himself - that had him pulling away and looking down at Kris with a soft smile, and then a frown.

"What?" Kris asked, looking confused, a little exasperated and a little annoyed and Adam was thrown a little by the fact that he actually found that cute. Adorable. And hot. God, what was wrong with him?

"Here's my number," he said after a moment, clearing his throat and pushing a card into Kris' hand that he'd taken out of his pocket. "You- call me or something?" he asked, putting the ball in Kris' court. "Because I- I gotta go."

"You've- Of course." Kris frowned, taking a step back and folding his arms a little defensively and Adam knew he was going about this the wrong way. But, Adam noticed, he still had hold of the card.

"I'll see you around?" Adam asked with an apologetic shrug as his phone buzzed again. "I-"

"Sure." It was Kris this time that turned on his heel and walked back towards the counter, and then into the back room and no one had ever walked away from Adam before. He really was doing this all wrong, but someone touching his elbow drew his attention and some small girl was asking him for his autograph and he just smiled, obliged and then high-tailed it out of the shop and into the outside world.

A few cameras went off, but Adam didn't bother to pose. He needed to go see Sandy and then go home, kick Brad out and not watch his phone waiting for a call.

Because contrary to popular belief, Adam was not (completely) pathetic.


	4. Behind the Mask IV

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Kris doesn't want to call Adam and wonders if he's gone insane.
> 
> _ He wasn't going to call Adam. Why should he? That was twice now that Adam had appeared as if by magic, kissed his brains out and then gone away. _

The thing about Kris was, he was a good guy. He didn't kiss people and not know their names and he certainly didn't let people that had kissed him just disappear and walk away from him, he didn't really let people walk all over him. And, in all honesty, he didn't take too kindly to the kiss-and-run thing that Adam seemed to have going on. He was not a princess - if anything he was the prince now since Adam did the mysterious running away thing - and he didn't appreciate someone just kissing him and leaving. Granted, now he had a phone number, but it was sat on the counter by his phone mocking him with its mere presence. He wasn't going to call Adam. Why should he? That was twice now that Adam had appeared as if by magic, kissed his brains out and then gone away. Why should Kris call him?

Of course, that had been how he thought for a few days after the second (well, third) kiss. During that time, however, Kris was also kind of convinced he was going insane because he was sure that there was someone following him. Every time he'd turned around, though, there was no one there. So either Kris was actually being followed, or kissing Adam Lambert had made him insane.

Currently, he was seriously considering the latter to be the case. Since Adam had appeared in the coffee house and kissed him, Kris hadn't been able to think of anything else. And now he had a phone number he wasn't calling it? He was definitely going insane. He should be put down because he was reaching new levels of pathetic and should be put out of his misery.

Of course, when he'd said that to Charles, the response had been something along the lines of _Don't be such a pussy and just call him. You think he's hot, he clearly thinks you're hot. So what if he's a multi-platinum, many many grammy award winning artist? You need sex and so does he and if you can provide that for each other then go for it. I do not need you bitching about how you need to get laid. There are some things a guy never needs to hear about his best friend and that's one of them._

God, Kris needed new friends.

He didn't mention the fact that he was convinced he was going insane, though, because there was a line and if he said that to Charles, that line would have been crossed and then Charles would have been honor bound to call his momma and if Kris' momma found out about half the stuff he was doing in LA instead of chasing his musical dream, she would kill them both. Kris rather liked being alive and his momma was the queen of the guilt trip.

Three days after Adam had appeared, kissed him and thrust his cell phone number at Kris, Kris actually caught sight of one of the people he thought was stalking him outside his apartment. The shadowy figure had a camera around his neck and when Kris tentatively parted the curtains, there was a camera flash. He pulled the curtain shut again and leaned back against it.

He was being followed. He _was_ being followed. This was insane. Why was he being followed?

In a moment of pure paranoia, Kris went over to his front door and checked that it was locked, sliding the chain across anyway - just in case - and then sat down at his laptop. Now, he'd recognised Adam's name when he'd heard it, and when he'd told Charles who it was, his friend had exploded in a _holy shit!_ and proceeded to tell Kris about how he was an award winning artist, which made Kris feel all kinds of stupid for not realising. But he didn't really know who Adam was, not really.

Maybe it was time he consulted Lord Google.

The first article that came up was one on E! and it was accompanied by a picture of Adam kissing some smaller guy in a green apron in a coffee shop. It looked similar to the one he worked in.

_ Singer Adam Lambert, 27, was seen today kissing an employee of The Coffee House, an inside source says Adam does not have a boyfriend at the time and does not know who this mystery man is._

A link underneath that lead to another page, and another picture of Adam kissing the same guy in a green apron. Kris wondered who the guy was until he saw the picture underneath.

_Who is Adam Lambert's new beau? And he must be special because Adam has not been seen with anyone since these pictures were taken._

Kris stared at a picture of himself. His guitar was on his back and it was the middle of the day. He knew when that had been taken: yesterday. He'd been in the park at lunch singing to a group of kindergartners that played there. On his way back to work he'd thought he had seen someone, but brushed it off as an Adam-related bout of paranoia and insanity, clearly he should be more suspicious of everything.

_Sources claim this man is Kris Allen, 24yr old Arkansas native who moved to LA recently._

They knew his name?! Of course they knew his name. Kris hated the world and he clicked through the links, reading article after article about Adam, learning a whole lot more about the singer than he had any right to considering how he didn't know him. Everything was up there, from Adam's baby pictures to sordid details of his sex life (and Kris hated that his imagination tried to run the hell away with the latter and have some alone time with it). And now, included in all that was Kris.

His brother was going to find this somehow, Daniel always found this stuff to show people and embarrass him with. His momma was going to kill him when she saw.

There was a moment where he envisioned his mother finding the pictures of him and Adam making out in the middle of the coffee shop and the comments that were piling up beneath them, ranging from 'aw cute' to 'I bet they have hot sex over that counter' and 'Ew, gross, that's a food establishment'. Kris had wondered why a couple of people had started to look at him in a knowing kind of way, and why business had suddenly started to boom. It was because his face was on the internet making nice with Adam's face.

Suddenly he felt compelled to call Adam because this was all Adam's fault and he felt that Adam needed to know just how much this was his fault.

The phone was picked up on the second ring.

"Kris?" Adam's voice sounded kind of tired and a little tinny, like he wasn't actually holding the phone against his mouth.

Kris blinked, "Uh, yeah, how did you know it was me?"

The rich laugh that filtered down through from the other side of the line did something funny to Kris' stomach. "I didn't, I was just kind of... hoping?"

Somewhere in the background of Adam's call he heard someone say _"God, you're pathetic!"_

"Shut up, Brad," Adam grumbled and then there was a rustling and the sound of a door shutting and what Kris guessed was the sound of Adam sitting down on a bed or something. "So, Kris."

"There are people outside my house." Kris decided to be done with the pleasantries already. Adam needed to know that his little kiss and run adventure - which Kris hadn't forgiven him for, by the way - had caused trouble. Big trouble. "And there are people following me after work and someone took a picture of me yesterday at the park and now it's on the internet!"

"I saw that," Adam said, sounding a little apologetic. "I didn't know you played the guitar."

"That's what you're going to take from that?" Kris asked, incredulous. "Of course you don't know that I play guitar, we've never actually spoken, at all, and then you kissed me when I was at work and now there are people with cameras following me around!"

There was a sound on the other end of the line, an almost apologetic sound, and then another like Adam was giving something some serious thought.

"I'm sorry the paps decided to go after you, at least you're not falling out of clubs at 3am having an argument with someone who's off their face about fairies?" Kris wondered if Adam remembered the costume. "And since most fairies I've met look nothing like you, I'm not that interested in what they have to say."

Okay, evidently Adam did remember. Kris didn't want to be warmed by that knowledge. He didn't want to grab it and keep it and like a lovesick teenager so that whenever he got sad he could look at it and everything would be made better.

"I'm actually really boring," Kris said, as if that would endear him to Adam. He didn't even know if that was what he wanted to do; he was still trying to be mad about the whole kiss and run thing. "If I continue to be boring, will they leave me alone?"

"But you're not boring anymore," Adam corrected, "because you're associated with me, so that makes you not boring."

"I am not 'associated' with you." Kris said, frown in his voice and there was silence on the other end of the line from Adam. Maybe he wasn't used to people standing up to him. "Nor would I be because I don't like people who break people's brains with kisses then leave, and then end up inadvertently making the press stalk their every move."

There was still silence on the other end. Maybe Adam was considering an answer. Maybe Adam had fallen asleep. Maybe it was like the kiss and run thing only Adam had just put the phone down and wandered away.

"Because there's a stereotype," Kris continued, thinking that maybe Adam had put the phone down and maybe he was okay with that. "And when you do stuff like this, you perpetuate it. It keeps going and it just gets bigger and worse and more out of control. Then people don't want to get to know you because you're not a person, you're a stereotype and everyone knows the stereotype so where's the interest in the person behind it?

"I'm not gay. I was gonna marry this girl in Arkansas and spend the rest of my life with her but she couldn't reconcile the fact that I liked guys too. It didn't mean I loved her any less, but she expected me to be a stereotype and I'm not. I never have been and I won't be. There's no point in ti. I'm already a starving wannabe artist, working two jobs and performing whenever I can. That's enough stereotypes for me."

Kris couldn't even hear breathing on the other end of the line. He was pretty sure that Adam had hung up the phone now, or at least put it down and gone to talk to whoever else was in his apartment. Maybe the phone was in the other room.

"And I don't know why you gave me your number. I can't imagine your management are thrilled at the idea. I saw an interview today when I finally tried to find out who you were and why my friends were creaming themselves over your name, and in it you said that someone had found your number and texted you so much you had to change it. How did you know that I wasn't just gonna pass it around? Or sell it to someone?

"It was a huge leap of faith for you, right? Hoping that someone out there wasn't a dick? That maybe someone would look at you and not think 'Adam Lambert, rock star'? That someone might see past the stereotype you keep digging yourself into further? But why me?"

Another minute went by and there was nothing from Adam's side of the line. Kris was about to hang up, feeling a little exhausted after talking into the phone so much when he heard the sound of someone's breath catching.

"I think the question is why not you," Adam said finally and his voice sounded a little rough. Kris felt stupid when he realised that Adam had been there the whole time just listening, and Kris had been too busy trying to say something - and he couldn't even remember what his point had been - at that point that he didn't hear anything that might have given Adam's presence away. Though, if he'd known, then he wouldn't have spoken and then maybe Adam wouldn't have known that Kris wasn't that kind of guy.

"Whuh?" Kris' answer was completely inelegant. Adam chuckled on the other end of the line and Kris remembered that sound, warm and rich like honey against his lips after they'd kissed in the cafe. He shivered and rubbed at the side of his neck, resisting the urge to touch his lips.

"I like people that give me reality checks," Adam said a moment later, a smile clear in his voice. Kris imagined Adam was lying back on his bed and looking up at the ceiling like he was on that Rolling Stone cover. "Keeps me from becoming a total asshole."

"You mean the kind of guy that kisses someone in his place of work and then leaves without a number?" Kris asked and Adam blew out a breath. It sounded like a sigh, tired and resigned. It make Kris feel bad, guilty.

"Yeah, that kind of guy. I never wanted to be that guy."

"Then don't be." Kris said softly, like that would help make his former words better.

"I gave you my number, didn't I?" Adam asked and Kris felt his stomach twist and something tug and he swallowed into the phone. He pressed two fingers against his lips and wished that Adam was in front of him so that he could kiss him. At least he could initiate it, tell Adam that he understood.

"Yeah," he murmured softly, just kissed fingerprints pressing against the mouthpiece of the phone like that soft kiss would reach Adam on the other end. "Yeah, you did."

There were voices on Adam's side and Kris smiled a little. "You sound like you're busy."

"I'm sorry about the paparazzi," he apologised and Kris just made a soft 'don't worry about it' sound. "But I do have to go... people are demanding my presence."

"So hard, being you," Kris teased and rubbed his had over his eyes.

He didn't know what to think when he heard Adam's soft and sincere reply of, "You have no idea. I'll call you. Bye Kris."

"Bye, Adam," Kris replied to the dialling tone and hung up the phone himself, eyeing the cell for a second before he put it down on the side and walked away. It hadn't been resolved, nothing had been resolved, but Kris felt a little better about it all.

The only issue he'd had with the whole thing? That Adam hadn't been in front of him so that he could actually kiss him and make it better. The fact that Kris wanted to do that weirded him out more than a little.

Maybe he needed to take Charles up on his offer of going out and getting laid. It might solve everything. He walked away from his phone hoping to high heaven that it rang again.

It didn't.

Kris tried to pretend he wasn't disappointed.


	5. Behind the Mask V

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Adam is an incredible performer, he knows that, so why is he nervous?
> 
> _ Nerves were for people who didn't know they were awesome. Adam knew he was talented, he knew he could sing, but when he was stood backstage watching the support act finish up, he felt his stomach twisting and rolling the likes of which it hadn't done for a long time. _

When life consisted of dressing up in fabulous, glittery clothes and make up, pretending to be someone on stage every day, the little things became incredibly important to Adam, those things that reminded him that there was a normal life out there somewhere and that he could get snatches of it if he tried hard enough and kept the right people around.

It was moments like the one where he found that Brad had drank the last of his juice - from the carton - and then put it back in the fridge, sat on the counter and waited for Adam to try and pour himself a glass. It hadn't been all that funny, but Brad had laughed for a good five minutes because even rock stars ran out of Tropicana. It was the way that Danielle looked at him when he was fussing over album sales and reminded him how lucky he was; that only a few years ago, Adam had been living in a damp apartment that wasn't even the size of his current bathroom, scraping by a living. And more recently, it was the way that Kris spoke to him on the phone, like he was just a normal person who didn't get panties and bras flung at his face when he was on stage, like he didn't get people flinging themselves at him for fifteen minutes of fame or for a story they could tell their grandchildren.

His phone calls with Kris had been snatched and short mostly, where Adam told Kris about some guy he'd met whose album sales had flopped and as such he'd had to move out of his apartment into a smaller one. He didn't know why he was telling Kris that; it was inane, and Kris clearly agreed because Adam could hear him rolling his eyes as he talked about the homeless man that lived outside the coffee shop where he worked and how Kris made sure to give him water during the day and sneak a couple of cups of coffee and pastries out to him whenever he could. They came out of his paycheck at the end of the month but it was worth it. Adam hadn't even noticed the man, he admitted as such and promised that he'd keep an eye out for him in the future.

Not that he'd had much of a chance to swing by the coffee house recently because he'd been so busy with his album and press releases where he very carefully fielded any questions pertaining to those pictures of the kiss. After about a week of nothing being said, people stopped asking. Adam was glad about it, but the odd picture of Kris cropped up on the internet.

The thing that was keeping him going, though, were the phone conversations with Kris. They spoke for anything between five minutes and two hours (though it if was going to be that long, Adam always called Kris back because he wasn't a starving artist), and they talked about everything and nothing. He told Kris about how he used to be a chubby ginger teenager with a skin problem and no friends, and Kris made all the right sounds, appropriately surprised and reassuring that Adam now looked 'fierce'. Their conversations focused mainly on Adam, Kris learning things he never knew about the other man and in turn, eventually, Adam stopped talking long enough to ask Kris questions about himself.

Adam learned that Kris was an amazing human being. He learned that he'd had a rib removed when he was younger due to an accident on his bike, he learned that Kris nearly died when he was on a missionary trip but that he wasn't strictly religious. He learned that Kris was going to get married to his high school sweetheart but when they'd taken a break and Kris had made out with Drew at college and pictures got leaked to Katy, she'd freaked out and said that she couldn't be with someone who liked guys too. He learned that Kris worked two jobs and didn't get to play as much as he'd like to, but he was okay with that because he could make the rent and he learned that Kris was absolutely not star struck by him.

It was refreshing. Someone he had only met a little while ago by chance treated him the same way that his old friends did. Kris told him if what he was saying was bullshit. Kris made him laugh. The Universe had done the right thing in trying to put them together, it was Adam that had screwed it up.

"I think you should come to my concert," Adam said in the middle of one of their conversations. Kris had laughed.

"You think so?" he asked, "Wouldn't that change everything?"

"I don't know, would you get weird when you see how fierce and hot I am when I'm performing? I might blow your mind." Kris laughed again on the other end of the phone and Adam felt validated (how lame was he?). "Then things might get a little awkward, yeah, you're right, maybe you shouldn't come."

"I never said that," Kris retorted, "I've only seen youtube videos and there's so much screaming and panty throwing that I can't make out this fierce, glittery alien that's supposed to be on stage."

Adam groaned. "You've been googling me again, haven't you." He didn't mind, not really, because that meant that he was on Kris' mind. However some of the stuff that was out there was... horrendous, to say the least.

Kris chuckled, "Maybe. I found your brother's blog, it's hillarious. I think I like him better than you."

Adam made a hurt sound, though he was smiling. "He'll be pleased to hear that. He's always complaining about being the other Lambert boy. He's just bitter because he's untalented."

"I wouldn't say that, he's a great writer," Kris said sincerely. "But we've gotten side tracked and my break's nearly over. I gotta go back."

"Will you come to my show?" Adam asked, a question this time rather than a thought. He hated how vulnerable Kris made him feel, like if he said 'no' then something inside Adam would break a little bit. "I'll get you tickets, you can have a plus one if you'd like...?"

In all their conversations, Kris hadn't actually mentioned if he was single or not. Adam guessed he was, but this would settle it.

"Nah, just a ticket for me. I'll be surrounded by enough people that I won't feel lonely."

Adam released the breath he hadn't even realised he was holding. "Sure," he said finally. "You better get back to work. It starts at 8.30, but get there early. Your ticket'll be waiting in the box office for you."

He thought he could hear Kris' smile, quirky and lopsided through the phone. They more they'd talked, the more Adam was convinced that Kris was the missing piece of his puzzle.

"Okay."

The silence wasn't awkward, it never was. A lot of their conversations revolved around mutual periods of silence when neither one was talking but so much was being said. Kris' silence told Adam _I accept you, you're a freak but I don't mind._ and sometimes _You're a normal guy, and you're an ass._ Adam's silences told Kris _I appreciate you. I like you. You're good for me._ but he figured that the message probably got lost in translation somewhere along the line.

"I really have to go, Adam," Kris said and Adam nodded before giving a verbal cue; it wasn't quite a groan, but close enough. At least Kris sounded apolgetic and reluctant. "I get off work at four...?"

"Sound checks," Adam answered just as sadly. "But it's cool. Go and make people coffee. I should be rehearsing now anyway."

"I can't imagine you need to rehearse that much," Kris said and Adam felt warmed by Kris' faith in his ability to perform, even if he'd never really seen him do it.

"You're biased," Adam settled on saying instead of the plethora of other things he could say. "See you at the concert."

"Yeah," Kris laughed again, "I'll be the one not screaming. I- Hang on, I'm just coming!- gotta go. Talk to you later, good luck with the show tonight."

And Adam was left listening to the dialling tone.

*

Adam didn't get nervous. He stopped getting nervous after the first show on his tours, or the first night in a run. He knew the steps and the words and people loved it when he fucked up because it proved that he was human and therefore that he made mistakes. He enjoyed fucking up because it meant that he was allowed to improvise and the band wouldn't kill him for it.

Nerves were for people who didn't know they were awesome. Adam knew he was talented, he knew he could sing, but when he was stood backstage watching the support act finish up, he felt his stomach twisting and rolling the likes of which it hadn't done for a long time. He felt nervous, terrified, even, that he was going to fuck up. All because Kris was in the audience. It was stupid, to feel so strongly about the guy that he'd only just met reall,y that he'd been getting to know and it was a breath of fresh air, but he didn't want the facade to end. It was kind of fairy-tale esque (which fitted wonderfully considering how they'd first met), and they hadn't had their second act twist or anything yet. It was all just a little too good to be true.

"Pull your shit together," Tommy said, nudging Adam's shoulder with his as he passed the other man to tumultuous applause and screaming. Somewhere in the front row was a huge glittery banner that announced they were members of _Team Adommy_. It amused the shit out of Tommy that people thought of him and Adam like that. He loved Tommy, sure, but the guy was as straight as an arrow, even if he was overly comfortable with guys in his personal space. He could make up to the camera with the best of them. And he was good at making up to the fans.

Adam came out last, accompanied by a blast of pyrotechnics, sweeping music and he strutted out onto the stage like he owned it. It was the very best kind of high, even if it was tempered a little today with nerves knowing that Kris was watching him. He wondered if Kris could see, the guy wasn't huge and there were a lot of women in heels out there.

"Hey guys, thanks for coming out," he wet his lower lip, eyes looking like they were trying to scan the crowd but through all the lights it was damn near impossible to see anything. Adam was kind of glad of that, today. He didn't want to see Kris. He might fuck up. Kris made his knees feel like jello. Something he hadn't felt since Brad. "You all know this one, feel free to join in!"

It was easy, too easy to get lost in the music, the sensual way the beat flowed through him and the words fell out of his mouth and off his lips. He was born to do this, born to be this. The glitter and the fame and the music were the things that Adam lived for. It was a powerful drug, performing, and he wasn't often in full control of what he was doing when he was up on stage. It was why he'd made out with Tommy so many times, he got swept up in the music and Tommy was kind of cute and there and he didn't mind.

The first time they'd met, actually, Tommy had just grinned at Adam and told him to "use me as you see fit" and Adam had done. Many times on stage. Never in private, because there were lines you didn't cross, and besides, straight, but the Adommy fans loved it, and Adam and Tommy loved their fans.

His set-list was one he knew in his sleep. He could do it without trying, without thinking but that wasn't always a good thing. His mind wandered halfway through Strut and he fucked up the lyrics, laughing to himself as he corrected them and shrugging apologetically to the audience. "That's what'll happen when you've got a guy on the brain," he said with a salacious wink in the direction of the audience, in the direction of Kris. Not that he could see Kris, he didn't even know that Kris was actually in the audience, but it had the desired effect and there was screaming and cheering and everyone forgot quickly enough that he'd messed up the lyrics.

He finished with _For Your Entertainment_, a big finish that allowed him to riff and just lose himself in the music, forgetting that there was anyone else out there, singing like he would die if he didn't. Sometimes he felt like that. But as soon as the song was over and the music had stopped ringing in his ears, and he thanked the fans over their screams, he had to get back stage. He had to get off the stage and into his dressing room because there had been a backstage pass in with the tickets and Kris had to use it.

He wanted Kris to use it. His skin felt itchy, like it didn't fit him properly because he was nervous again. The high of performing had drained out of him instantly and now he just felt like maybe he was a little too glam for Kris right now, maybe he should take off his make up? But Kris had never seen him without it on and that was something Adam hated; himself without make up. He wasn't Adam Lambert without it on, no one knew that side of him that wasn't born with glitter on his face. That Adam was insecure and he didn't want Kris to see that part of him. No one except Brad loved that part of him.

At the root of it all, Adam was still that fat ginger kid that wanted to be loved and accepted by everyone. Now he just wore make up and dyed his hair in an attempt to make himself cooler, hotter, whatever he felt that he needed to be.

He jumped when there was a knock on his door and it was pushed open. Kris stumbled in looking a little dishevelled and Adam could have sworn that was LP's hand on the doorknob shutting it behind the little man from Arkansas.

"So," Adam started, fiddling with one of his necklaces absently. It was a nervous habit, something he barely realised that he did but when he spotted his hands moving restlessly he still them, settling for getting to his feet and moving closer to Kris instead. Everyone always joked about Adam's gravitational field, but no one ever talked about the one that Kris had, or maybe it was just Adam-specific since people tended not to orbit Kris like they did Adam.

"So," Kris mimicked infuriatingly. His lips twitched and Adam wrinkled his nose. "You're not half bad."

Adam's surprised laugh made them both jump a little and he reached out, putting his hand on Kris' shoulder. "Coming from you, that's practically a glowing review," he said with a grin as Kris moved closer, into the touch. He looked down. The toes of their shoes were touching though they couldn't be more different; Kris' beat up sneakers looked old and worn and childish next to Adam's shiny, fierce, snake skin boots.

"You know," Kris muttered, lifting his head from where he'd been looking down at their shoes and maybe considering the contrast too, "if you run away again, I'm going to hunt you down and kill you."

Adam wondered if his face was about to split in two, he was smiling so hard. He probably looked like an idiot. He didn't care.

"I didn't have any plans on running away. I do have to go and meet some fans, but I can always take you with me, or make you wait in here until I get back?"

Kris looked distinctly unhappy at the prospect of being left alone so Adam continued, "It's not for another half hour...?"

It seemed to sate Kris because suddenly there was a hand in his hair, curled in the strands and lips against his. Kris' lips were slightly chapped - Adam wondered if he could sell him on the wonders of lipbalm - but whatever else he might have thought got lost because there were teeth sinking into his lower lip and he took a couple of steps forwards until Kris' thighs hit the vanity.

A muffled groan came from the fully body contact that move created and Adam's hands slid down to Kris' hips, half lifting, half shoving him onto the top of the dresser so that they were at a slightly more even level. His hands cupped Kris' face and he wondered just how it was that Kris fitted so perfectly against him. Kris' legs wound around his thighs, pulling him closer and they did just fit like this was what they were supposed to do, supposed to be. It felt as natural to Adam as singing.

Kris' hands had slid down to his waist, underneath the hem of his shirt and calloused fingertips brushed over the skin on his sides. He shivered and pushed closer, hips knocking into Kris' and the younger man moaned against Adam's lips. He licked his way into Kris' mouth, feeling like a starving man just shoved in front of an all-you-can-eat buffet. He couldn't get enough of Kris and he broke the kiss to slide his mouth along Kris' jaw, biting and sucking and tasting, delighting in the shivers that rippled through Kris with each movement, each teasing taste and touch, the promise of more to come.

"You're definitely not boring," Adam breathed against Kris' racing pulse, biting down gently and Kris' head tipped back for him, exposing the skin. He groaned and Adam could imagine the puzzled frown tugging on Kris' face, fighting with the blissed out expression for dominance. "I mean, a boring person wouldn't be here."

His hand slid down Kris' chest, resting just above the waistband of his pants. Kris' hips rocked up into the barely there touch and Adam's breath caught. He was about to do something that would make them both feel a whole lot better when there was a demanding knock at the door.

"Adam! Come on, you've got a press thing! Meet and greet, remember!"

"Fuck," Adam hissed against Kris' neck and Kris just blinked at him a couple of times, lips kiss-swollen and pupils huge. He looked fucked out and gorgeous and barely anything had happened, but Adam wanted it to, fuck, Adam wanted it to so badly. He was tempted to just ignore the knocking but then it happened again like the best kind of contraceptive, or cock-blocker. "I gotta go."

"Hunting down and killing," Kris said, voice a little rougher than Adam had ever heard before and fuck if he didn't want that right now. He wanted to hear how rough and raw he could make Kris sound. Adam chuckled.

"I know, baby," he shook his head. Sandy knocked on the door again. Adam thought that if she knocked any harder, she'd bleed against the door and that wouldn't be good; she'd never let him live it down and he'd have to do nice things for her for the rest of all time.

Kris pulled him into another kiss, rough and dirty and everything that he needed it to be. Adam wondered if it was stupid that he felt he could probably come like this, fully clothed with a sort of wholesome Southern boy. But then Kris sucked on his lower lip and Adam thought, no, not so stupid after all.

"Adam! Get your ass out here or I'm coming in there and you don't want that!" Sandy barked and she smacked her hand on the door again. Adam could kill her for ruining this.

"I'm not running, I'm being dragged. Now we're even," he muttered against Kris' mouth, taking a couple of steps backwards. "I'm coming," he called, trying to put himself back together again because he was sure that he probably looked completely indecent. He reached the door and looked back at Kris which proved to be his undoing. He strode back over in three long paces and kissed Kris again like his life depended on it. Like he needed to prove that there was something actually there and that Kris wasn't just some random groupie along for the ride.

"Go," Kris laughed against Adam's lips, cupping his face like Adam was made of china. No one touched him like that. "Otherwise she'll come in here and we don't want that."

Adam smiled and nudged Kris' nose with his own. "I won't be long." he promised, and he wouldn't be. He loved his fans, he did, but he wanted to see what Kris looked like when he was orgasming more.

"I'll be here," Kris said quietly, shifting off the vanity and into the chair.

As Adam opened the door, he saw Kris getting comfortable and he let himself believe Kris' words.


	6. Behind the Mask VI

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Where Brad is not a bellhop, Charles is not helpful and Kris and Adam... well, they are insatiable.
> 
> _ Three days and Kris was quite sure that Adam had taken it upon himself to text every thought that went through his head Kris' way. Kris guessed it was Adam's way of reassuring Kris that he meant more than just a blowjob in a dressing room and a few really incredible kisses. _

It had been three days, three long days. Adam had come back to the dressing room after meeting and greeting and they had kissed some more, Kris had dropped to his knees and found out that Adam was loud when he was being given head, and when Adam proved that his hands were just as talented as the rest of him, Kris had seen stars when he came. Kris could still remember the way that Adam's lips felt against his, biting and sucking and leaving marks on Kris' body that were only just starting to fade. He still had a thrill whenever he ran his fingers over his collarbone.

They hadn't had sex. Kris refrained from mentally referring to the action as 'making love' because that was what you did with boyfriends, not random superstars that came out of nowhere and fucked with your mind and then disappeared. Not that Adam had actually disappeared, Kris' cell was inundated with texts, mundane things from _Eggs n bacon 4 brekfast. Dont they know I'm watching my weight?_ to _Saw these shoes. had to have them. what do you think?_ Three days and Kris was quite sure that Adam had taken it upon himself to text every thought that went through his head Kris' way. Kris guessed it was Adam's way of reassuring Kris that he meant more than just a blowjob in a dressing room and a few really incredible kisses (it definitely meant more to Kris; he'd never gotten onto his knees for a guy before).

"You know, it's kind of sickening," Charles said through a mouthful of popcorn. They were watching a movie (Kris didn't know which one and he didn't really care because Adam was texting him every five minutes with something new and inane and that was far more interesting than any movie could ever be). "You and him."

"Don't be stupid," Kris said, firing a text back and looking up at his best friend. "You're just pissed because most of his friends are guys and therefore you can't get hooked up with a hot girl by proxy."

"That fact aside," Charles waved a hand dismissively and shoved another fistful of popcorn into his mouth. Kris wondered how Charles ever got laid if he acted like that around women. "And the fact that you never seem to want to actually make a go of being famous. You could totally do it, all the singer-songwriter kind of dorky artists are in at the moment. Look at Jason Castro and Jason Mraz."

"Their names both start with 'jason', Charles," Kris said as if that was the only reason Kris wasn't famous yet, "I'm 'Kris'. I'm breaking the trend by my parents calling me 'Kristopher'."

"That's not an excuse, you're just being pathetic and scared and a huge pussy and that's not an attractive look on guys."

"And you'd know that... how?" Kris asked, not hearing Charles' reply because Adam texted him again and Kris' senses honed in on the small screen of his crappy little phone. He wished he had a better one. If he did, then he wouldn't feel quite so much like a small boy in a huge city. He texted back, something about eyeliner and leather.

"...and Kris wears panties and likes cock."

Kris had been caught out not listening, but he'd been friends with Charles for long enough that it didn't phase him, "You got half of that right," he said with a half smirk in Charles' direction.

Charles coughed on his popcorn. He wasn't expecting Kris to be unflustered. He didn't like it when Kris was unflustered. "Which half?"

"You'll just have to guess." Kris said enigmatically and got to his feet. He stretched his arms above his head, feeling something in his lower spine pop in a very satisfying way. He groaned as it released and the tension across his lower back lessened.

Charles shook his head, "I don't like this new you. I preferred it when I was the smart ass."

Kris just laughed and looked at his phone again. There was another message from Adam.

_**Adam:** Meet me @ my hotel in 30? U no where it is. Booked under a different name, can u guess who? ;)_

What did it say about Kris that he stuffed his feet into his sneakers and had his keys in his pocket before he realised that Charles was still sat on the couch, frozen in position and looking rather quizzically at his best friend.

"Where are you going?" he asked before catching himself and dropping his popcorn back into the bowl. "Never mind, I take it back. Glambert's calling you forth."

Kris snorted. "I'll be back later. Or tomorrow... I don't know. I'll let you know?"

Charles just frowned. "I know that you can't explain your sudden and undeniable attraction and compulsion to the Glambulge, but this isn't you. You don't do this. Random hookups with guys that aren't gonna commit to you isn't... it's not you, Kris. And your momma would kill us both if LA compromised who you are."

Kris just sighed and rubbed his hand over his face. "I know. It's just- this thing with _Adam_ \- he has a name, you know - is different. He's different."

"How do you know he doesn't treat all of his random fucks like this? Like they're princes and then when he gets bored just shoves them aside? I don't wanna see you getting hurt, man, and as tough as I am, his guards look tougher and I couldn't punch him out for breaking your little heart."

Kris wrinkled his nose and tugged his jacket on, wallet and keys slipping into his pocket. "He won't," he said confidently, and he didn't know how he knew, he just did. He also hated that a tiny part of his mind, the cynical part that had appeared since he got to LA and found out that life wasn't as sparkly as everyone made it seem, snatched Charles' words and filed them away for future reference. "And if that does ever happen, you can be the first person to say 'I told you so', okay?"

"Fine," Charles said, trying to look pleased with that but they both knew it wasn't true. Charles had taken it upon himself to try and protect Kris, after the break up with Katy, he had been the only person that had gone 'well, now the whole world can want you when you're famous' at the revelation of Kris' bisexuality. He was cool like that. Kris loved him dearly, but not in a gay way. "Go and have fun. I won't wait up for you. Just think of me here, all alone without a hot woman whilst you're having crazy gay sex."

Kris laughed and pulled open the front door. "Go out and find a hot woman, then, and as much as I love you, your face in my head during sex would probably kill the mood."

Popcorn was thrown in his direction but it fell woefully short. "You better clean that up," Kris said as he stepped out of the apartment and pulled the door shut behind him. He laughed softly to himself and shook his head before he rubbed his hand over the back of his neck. He hadn't even checked what he looked like before leaving the house. He regretted that, but if he went back in, he'd never stop hearing jokes about cold feet and blue balls.

It was a simple enough decision; go to the hotel where Adam was staying. It wasn't like he didn't have a house in LA; Kris had heard all about it, but for some reason Adam wasn't living there at the moment. It was entirely possible it was being fumigated for a bug infestation, or there was an ex that refused to move out, or it was being redecorated. Kris didn't want to hazard a guess as to why a rock star wouldn't be living in his own house. He supposed rock stars were weird that way. Adam was certainly not someone that could be classified as 'ordinary', so living in a hotel probably made perfect sense to him.

Flagging down a cab, Kris climbed in and was silent on the whole way to the hotel, only thanking the driver when he got out and paid. His palms were a little sweaty by that point, feeling nervous because what if he did look awful? What if he looked like crap and Adam had just met some pretty boy and Kris would pale in comparison? Or what if Adam decided that their phone conversations were enough and that it was nice to have someone to talk to but not someone to be seen with? That would suck, but then Kris wasn't entirely sure he was ready to be outed to the world as Adam Lambert's boyfriend.

He caught his thoughts before they ran away with him any more than they already had. He was being really presumptuous in assuming that Adam would want to be his boyfriend anyway. Adam probably had people flinging themselves at him on a regular basis. He didn't need Kris to make him feel validated, but he still kept talking to him. That made Kris feel at least a little special. A little.

"There you are!" a voice exclaimed as Kris stepped into the lobby. He was accosted by a man who wasn't much taller than him and had incredible cheekbones and brown eyes. He was dressed in something approaching a bellhop's uniform if a bellhop wore a red button down that showed off their stomachs and if they were allowed to have their trousers painted on. The hat sat at a jaunty angle on top of his head. Kris blinked stupidly a couple of times. "He told me to meet you here because you'd go up to the front desk and ask to see him like an idiot and then you'd get swamped by the paps."

"Uh..." Kris managed articulately and the man who had apparently been sent by Adam just flapped his hands and draped an arm over Kris' shoulders.

"I'm Brad." the not-bellhop announced as he steered Kris towards the front desk. "And you're Kris. He told me to look out for the little guy in plaid."

Kris wondered if he should be offended at that description. He must have looked that way because Brad cut in quickly, correcting himself. "Well, no, not in so many words. He said something else entirely, and then added that you might be in plaid. You don't disappoint."

He tutted, clicking his tongue behind his teeth. "Honey, do you have any clothes that fit you properly?" Kris jumped when he felt a hand against his lower back that then plucked at the waistband of his jeans. They were a little baggy, but Kris liked that. Tight clothes made him feel like he might suffocate.

"These fit me fine."

"If you were a size bigger. You've probably got an amazing body hidden underneath all those layers. I'll take you shopping." Brad looked positively gleeful at the prospect and Kris wondered if he'd been involved in an accident and this was purgatory because he was sure he was supposed to be meeting Adam, not Adam's friend Brad the not-bellhop who wanted to take him shopping.

"I like my clothes to be comfortable," Kris said and obviously that was the wrong thing to say.

"Seriously, if you're going to be around longer, you need to... change it up a little." Brad's hand slid underneath Kris' jacket and he jumped again. "Relax, I'm not gonna do anything inappropriate here. The elevator, on the other hand..." he winked and Kris hated that he couldn't tell if Brad was joking or not.

Whatever else he might have said was lost because Brad leaned against the front desk. "Mr Bell," the receptionist said resignedly, "we've asked you before not to dress like that."

Brad just grinned at her, infuriating and charming and she fought a smile herself.

"We're here to see Kristopher Allen," he said without missing a beat. He glanced back at Kris and grinned again - evilly this time - at the confusion on Kris' face.

"Oh yeah, honey, you're a keeper." It was almost like he'd decided it as he tugged on Kris' arm and lead him away, room key dangling from one finger. How novel, Kris managed to think absently, that the hotel still had keys and not cards.

Once they were out of earshot of the receptionist and anyone else that might overhear (in the elevator that Kris wasn't entirely sure Brad wouldn't stop and try and undress him because he did look like Kris' clothes were offending him personally), Kris said, "But _I'm_ Kris Allen."

"I know that, and Adam knows that. But he likes pseudonyms. Don't ask me. It's a rock star thing." Brad looked bored and checked his fingernails as the elevator moved. "Last month he was Ringo Starr. Before that Reg Dwight. He likes to change it up a little. This is the first time he's used someone who isn't famous."

Kris lifted an eyebrow. "So I should feel... what, honoured?"

"No, honey, you should feel fucking spectacular." Brad corrected, pushing the key into Kris' hand. "And don't screw it up."

"Screw what up?" Kris asked as the doors opened. Brad just lifted one shoulder.

"If you have to ask..." he started, pressing a kiss to the corner of Kris' cheek, "then I'm not telling. Now shoo. I have a party to get to and you're making me more than fashionably late."

He gave Kris a friendly shove and wiggled his fingers in a parting wave as the doors closed with a ping and Kris was left standing in the hallway feeling ruffled and underdressed and confused as all hell. He swallowed and looked at the key in his hand.

The fob was engraved with the number 33. There were only two doors on the floor, one at either side of the hall and Kris wondered just how big the rooms inside were. Probably larger than his whole apartment. He wouldn't be surprised, LA was kind of unbalanced like that. He stood outside the elevator stupidly for a moment before he decided to stop being an idiot. He gathered his bravado. Adam had asked to meet him there. With that in mind, he squared his shoulders and, badly dressed according to the not-bellhop Brad, strode towards the door on his left. It was number 32. Of course. He laughed softly at himself before he turned on his heel and headed towards the other door. The corridor seemed to elongate as he approached the door. It hadn't been that long to walk to the other end. Stupid uneven hotels.

When he got to the door there was a note stuck to it. Adam's handwriting was tidier than Kris expected it to be, but then in Kris' imagination, everyone's handwriting was supposed to bethe same kind of illegible chicken-scratch that his was.

_Go in, make yourself comfortable. I'll be along as soon as I've finished this press thing. There's beer in the fridge. Try not to get too drunk, ok? _

See you soon! :)

-A

Kris pulled the note off the door and used the key to get into the room. He was right; it was huge. Huge didn't even cover how big the room was, actually. It was immense. Kris' whole apartment probably could have fitted twice into the space at least, and he hadn't even seen the bedroom or the bathroom yet. He rubbed the back of his neck and heard the door slide shut behind him as he moved towards the kitchenette. It was tidy, freshly cleaned it looked like, and smelt a little like apple disinfectant.

Leaving the key and the note on the side, Kris took a beer out of the fridge (and the six pack had another note on with a smiley face and a reminder not to get drunk but that they all had to be drunk at some point because Adam did not drink light beer).

Perching on the counter felt wrong, but then so did sitting on the couch. He tried both. Kris decided that he was going to explore and turned the TV on to have some kind of background noise as he did so. He didn't touch any drawers or cupboards; his momma had always told him it was okay to go snooping as long as you didn't touch anything. Drawers weren't to be opened, you could just snoop at the things on display. His momma never would have made a very good detective.

It didn't help that he was kind of nervous. Uncomfortable. He was alone in Adam's hotel room and he had no idea of what to expect when Adam arrived. Had he just turned into a booty-call? Was that what this was? Kris should have been more bothered than he was at the idea of that. Sex with Adam wasn't something he could ever turn down. Anyone who did would be mental, but Kris wasn't sure he liked the idea of Adam having a boyfriend _and_ someone he could use as a booty-call. Kris was no cheap 'ho.

There was a guitar in the corner of the bedroom and Kris crossed over to it and picked it up. It was new, barely used. He could tell because of the way that it felt underneath his palm, smooth and unloved. No wear in the varnish on the neck from years of careful use, no fingerprints on the keys used to tune it. He strummed it once, carefully, and winced at the sound it made. It needed tuning, badly.

He couldn't hear anyone else in the room, and the TV was still happily talking to itself, so Kris took the guitar out of the bedroom and perched on the edge of table near the wall, one leg crossed over the other and feet hanging in the air as he cradled the guitar in his hands, fingers strumming and head tilted as he tuned it. His eyes were half closed, lip between his teeth as he focused. Tuning by ear was hard, and it had taken him a long time to learn how to do it, but he had done and he was proud of himself for having done so.

Of course, like any addict (because music is a drug and anyone who told you otherwise is a liar), one hit wasn't enough and once the guitar was tuned, Kris sat for a moment just strumming the open strings and enjoying the clean sound that rang out through the apartment, even over the sound of the television. When his fingers formed into the shape of an E chord he knew he was lost. He shouldn't be playing on Adam's instrument, but he couldn't help himself. He was drawn to the guitar like it was a magnet and usually he just ran with it. It was easier that way.

He ran through the songs he'd sang the other night in the bar, the short set-list that didn't go down as well as he'd hoped, but he wasn't a genius and he wasn't famous, so he couldn't be blamed for that. That and he was pretty sure people weren't ready for an acoustic, reworked version of Heartless.

He was halfway through one of his own songs, eyes closed and fingers moving on the guitar without having to think about what they were doing when he heard a soft _holy shit_ and his fingers slipped on the frets. The guitar made a discordant noise, unhappy with Kris' movements and his voice died in his throat. Adam was standing there, just staring at him. He was wearing some ridiculous outfit (Kris had always been quite vocal about the things Adam chose to wear on stage, ranging from the ridiculous to the flamboyantly gay - the latter of which just made Adam laugh down the phone and say _"Honey? How could you think otherwise?"_) and he'd caught Kris singing. The platform boots made Adam even taller and Kris slid off the table, holding the guitar out like a peace offering. Adam was just staring. Why was Adam staring?

Kris' eyes dropped to the floor and he shuffled his feet, feeling his cheeks warming. Embarrassment mixed with mortification at having been seen and those emotions were struggling with an increasing sense of arousal because there was something intense about being looked at so openly by Adam.

"Sorry, I- it just was there and I can't help it. It's like my hands have minds of their own, you know?" he babbled, taking half a step back with the intention of putting the guitar down, or giving it back to Adam, but those platforms - that were glittery, God, how did Adam do that? - came closer until they were touching the toes of Kris' non-glittery, beat up old converse.

Adam's hand covered Kris' around the neck of the guitar and he lifted it until it could be rested down on the table. Once sure it was going to be safe, Adam encouraged Kris to let it go.

"Sorry," Kris said again and Adam just shook his head. His hands clasped around Kris' head and he pulled him up and into a kiss, backing the smaller man towards the wall. Kris' arms wrapped around Adam's neck and he stood on his very tip-toes because Adam was tall anyway, but with those boots on Kris didn't stand a chance, and he groaned into Adams' mouth when his back hit the wall.

It was awkward, Adam's hands moved from his face to his hips, and one fell away, curses spilled out against his neck as Adam's mouth rested there and then suddenly, two thuds later, Adam was shorter, more on Kris' level and they were kissing again. A thigh slid between Kris' and pushed up and Kris rocked into it, biting at Adam's lower lip and just reacting. How could he not? Adam hadn't said anything and Kris was not someone who did this normally, but Adam made him do a lot of things that he wouldn't normally do and Kris couldn't bring himself to care all that much. Whilst one of his hands went into Adam's hair, tugging on the strands to punctuate each desperate, messy kiss, his other one slid down into the back pocket of the tight, black trousers Adam was wearing. He squeezed once and Adam's hips rocked forward into his.

"Adam," he panted, breath catching and voice shaking as his hips rolled unthinkingly towards Adam's again, the friction wanting to steal his thoughts away, Adam's mouth trying to do just that, "we-"

"Bedroom," Adam merely growled, hands moving again, restlessly like Kris' body was braille and he was trying to speed read it. Cool fingertips slid underneath Kris' shirt and his stomach twitched, reluctantly pulling his arms away from Adam so that his t-shirt could be ripped off once his shirt had been shoved off his shoulders and left to puddle in a disappointed pile on the floor. The forgotten pile of plaid that got stood on when they moved towards the bedroom. It wasn't too far, Kris had been shoved up against the wall next to it, after all.

"Sure," Kris managed, feeling a little self-conscious now that he was shirtless and Adam was still fully clothed, but like he'd read Kris' mind, Adam shrugged out of his jacket and yanked his own shirt off, dropping to the floor (and Kris knew, somehow, that Adam would freak out about that later, that shirt probably cost more than Kris' first car). Hands were on his belt and Kris didn't realise that they were his until he felt Adam's eyes on him again, a slight smirk curving those lips.

Adam's hands reached out, covering Kris' and taking them off his belt. "So I had planned to talk to you," he said, voice a little rough as he walked Kris back towards the bed. Somehow, Kris managed to toe off his sneakers because getting your trousers caught in your shoes when you were trying to get them off was not sexy. "Ask you about your day and all that." He punctuated his sentence with another kiss, catching Kris' wrist when he reached up to cup Adam's cheek.

Kris' lips pulled into a pout that Adam kissed again. Talking was going to be difficult if Adam kept kissing him. Not that Kris minded; he wasn't insane. "So why didn't you?" he asked, leaning forward because Adam was fiddling with his belt and tugging it off. He caught Adam's earlobe between his teeth and sucked it into his mouth, curling his tongue over the lower edge.

Adam's breath caught and his hands stilled for a second, flexing against Kris' hips. Kris filed that reaction away for a later date. His belt was snapped away and tossed to the side as a reaction to the bite and Adam's hands were on his jeans, undoing them with deft fingers.

"Because you fucked up the plan," Adam breathed against Kris' ear. He tipped his head to give Adam access to his neck, his body once again reacting without his head's permission. He gasped when he felt Adam's hand slide into his open jeans, the cool metal of his rings a contrast to the wamth of Adam's hand. His hips twitched once into the touch. He felt lips over his pulse, the flicker of a tongue. "Do you know you look like you're coming when you sing?"

That question startled a laugh out of Kris. "No?" he answered, sounding more like he was asking if that was the right answer. His knees felt weak when Adam's hand moved, curling and twisting and trying to take Kris apart piece by piece. He didn't want to keep standing, orgasms robbed him of his ability to do anything fun with his legs.

"God, your voice," Adam continued, nosing his way down Kris' neck and pressing little kisses there. His hand moved in an agonsingly slow way, driving Kris crazy, his hips moving to try and counteract the slow touch, speed it up, give him more. "It's incredible, so raw and real." Lips touched the join of Kris' shoulder and neck and he let out a shaky breath. Adam's thumb brushed over the sensitive bundle of nerves and Kris' surprised gasp drew a chuckle from the singer.

Adam sucked a mark at that same spot, Kris' shoulder hitching up a little and his blood rushing hot and cold all at once at the prospect of being marked as Adam's. No one would see it, Kris didn't make a habit of walking around topless but he would know it was there and that was enough. His jeans had been moved off his hips now, succumbing to gravity's pull and lay pooled around his ankles along with the last of Kris' dignity. Adam stopped peppering kisses along Kris' collarbone to glance down. He still had his own trousers on, but Kris' pleasure was more important, and with a wicked smirk on his lips, he sunk to his knees in one smooth movement, hand still curled around Kris' base as his mouth closed over the head.

Kris groaned, low and broken as his stomach twitched and tensed, trying not to give in to his body's urge to move into the warm, wet heat that had just surrounded him. Sparks went off in his brain as Adam started to move, tongue curling and teasing, looking up at Kris through smoke-rimmed eyes, the grey-blue standing out like torchlight in the dark, smirking up at him as he sucked and teased.

He twisted his fingers in Adam's hair, just holding and not forcing, whilst the other hand twisted in his own hair, tighter than necessary to stop him from just falling apart completely. It had only been three days since they'd been together and it had been incredible, but nothing compared to this. "Ad-ah!-am," he tried, but Adam's hand sliding down to tease the inside of his thighs stopped his words again. The pressure inside him was beginning to build, starting as a low heat in his stomach, moving to collect at the base of his spine. It wasn't long before Adam was pulling off with a wet pop and Kris was confused as to why he'd stopped.

"You can move, you know," Adam said, fingers trailing over Kris. "I want you do."

Before he could pull enough higher-brain functions together to answer, Adam was sliding back onto him again, sinful lips stretched around Kris as the hands that had previously been holding Kris still encouraged him to move. Ever conscientious, though, Kris didn't lose himself until the very end when his body just moved on autopilot and his brain was sparking. He squeezed his eyes closed and gripped at Adam's hair, the only warning he was able to give before he came, the pressure unbearable as he let out some unintelligible babble, Adam's name in there somewhere. He couldn't look down even though he wanted to, his head had tipped backwards and somewhere in his mind the hallelujah chorus was going off because there was no feeling in the world that would beat that one. He was sure of it.

He came back to his senses to feel Adam kissing his way up his stomach and chest. A kiss was pressed to his chin and Kris moved to catch Adam's mouth, tasting himself on the edge of Adam's tongue. His hands returned to Adam's shoulders, holding himself up as one arm went around his back.

"I wish I had a camera for that moment," Adam muttered against Kris' mouth. Kris just smiled and bit at Adam's lower lip, brain still not functioning well enough to actually form words. Instead, his hand trailed down Adam's bare chest, fingers stopping briefly at his collarbone until Kris' mouth joined it, tracing over the freckles that were usually hidden by shirts and clothing and make up. Kris' hand trailed lower, resting at the band of Adam's trousers and would have undone them had Adam not caught him.

Kris looked up again, kissing the curve of Adam's jaw, nose pressed against the point just underneath his ear where he could smell Adam as well as the cologne and the make up.

"I want to-" Adam breathed out a soft sigh as Kris just about nuzzled that spot, pressing a kiss there. "Can I?"

"Yeah," Kris answered the unspoken question and swallowed past his nerves. It was a big step, and one he never would do on a booty call like this because that was cheap and low but it was Adam and Kris just couldn't explain the way that Adam made him feel and the reactions that Adam drew out in him. He just wanted everything, all of it all at once.

The smile that broke out over Adam's face made Kris' heart flutter like a bird in a cage. It warmed Kris and he wanted to remember that look. He didn't get a lot of time to commit it to memory though because the winning, I-can't-believe-you-said-yes smile was replaced with a dark-eyed expression of want. Adam's hands slid over Kris' arms and to his hips. "Get on the bed?" he asked, pressing another kiss to Kris' lips before he was undoing his own pants and stepping out of them.

Kris sat down on the edge of the bed and couldn't help noticing that Adam had gone commando. It shot an uncontrollable surge of want through him. He wet his lower lip and shifted a little more, tugging off his socks because he remembered that sex should never happen with socks on. That was unsexy too, and seeing Kris do that made Adam laugh.

"You know, most people would be freaking out about being here," Adam commented off-handedly as he grabbed a condom and a tube of KY from the drawer beside the bed. Kris snorted and reached out for Adam, shifting up onto the pillows.

"Most people aren't me," he answered, pulling Adam into another kiss meaning that the singer ended up just about on top of him. He felt more than heard the top of the KY come off as Adam shifted above him without even breaking the kiss.

"No," he mumbled against Kris' mouth and Kris heard the tube be squeezed and felt the cool touch of Adam's lube-slick fingers against his thigh, "they're really not."

There was a tone in Adam's voice that, if Kris couldn't feel Adam's fingers slipping further back and pressing against him, he would have wanted to analyse, as it was, he felt the first touch of Adam's finger pressing against him and the tip just sliding inside and he planted his feet on the mattress and lifted his hips, giving Adam that little more access.

They were kissing again as Adam prepared him, one finger became two, scissoring and moving and Kris got more and more frustrated with the slow pace that Adam had going on. He was moving and touching like he was trying to remember everything about this. His other hand trailed over Kris' chest, touching and kissing marks and scars that chronicled the story of Kris' life on his skin. It looked almost like Adam was categorising them, learning about them so he could ask about them later on.

"I'm ready," Kris grunted, pressing down onto Adam's fingers, working himself open as much as Adam was. "Come on, I'm good to go."

Adam snorted and pressed a kiss to Kris' nipple, biting at it gently. "Patience is a virtue," he said, adding a second later as he soothed away any pain that might have come from the bite with a kiss, "besides, I don't want to hurt you."

There was that tone again, but Adam's fingers crooked and hit that spot that made Kris' breath catch and his hips twitch. Kris didn't have time to think on tones or anything like that. He tipped his head back and pressed it against the pillow and Adam smiled.

"Now you're ready," he said and Kris could have smacked him for sounding so self satisfied. His fingers slid out of Kris and he bit his lip to stifle the disappointed sound that tried to escape him. He knew what was coming next and he took a few breaths to just keep it together. He heard the sound of foil tearing and Adam biting out a curse as he slid the condom onto himself and lubed up. Kris just wriggled and lifted his head from where it was buried in the pillows to look at Adam. He was gorgeous. Really gorgeous.

"I'm way past ready, rock star," Kris teased, lifting his hips and shifting as Adam moved closer and lined himself up. Their lips met again as Adam pushed gently and slowly into Kris, the fine tremble in his arms giving away that Adam was taking his time for Kris, and that it was killing him to take it so slow. "Just do it," Kris murmured against Adam's ear as his hand slid up one trembling arm to grip Adam's shoulder. His nails left little half-moon indents in the pale skin as Adam sank home with a low groan. He pressed his face against Kris' collarbone, breath warm against Kris' sensitive skin.

"Fuck," he breathed, voice tight and strained as Kris lifted a leg to hook it over Adam's hip. He moved slightly and Adam groaned again, hands fisting in the sheets Kris was lying on. "Fuck, Kris, I gotta-"

"I know," Kris groaned, feeling the burn and the stretch. Nothing ever prepared him for how it felt at first, before the good feelings sank in. He swallowed and trailed his hand as far down Adam's back as he could, imagining the constellation of freckles underneath his fingers. It was like Adam had a galaxy mapped out on his skin, just waiting for someone to take the time to learn it. Kris thought that he could, all too easily, be that person.

When Adam started to move, Kris remembered why he loved this so much. The burn gave way to that pleasurably full feeling and his hands moved, trailing over skin and he bit at Adam's shoulder to silently communicate what he needed Adam to do. He kissed the muscles on Adam's arms, the tension bringing out the definition as Adam held himself up, thrusting shallowly into Kris before diving deeper, their groans joining in an odd kind of harmony as the headboard hit the wall in time with their rhythmic movements.

Kris met each thrust with one of his own, pushing as Adam did, tilting his hips and gasping, moaning when he felt Adam move inside him. Each sound he made drove Adam on further, each movement of his hands and lips created goosebumps in their wake as he sucked and marked and kissed Adam's skin, reverent because of his beauty, and nothing else.

Adam nudged Kris' jaw with his nose and Kris felt those lips against his throat again, marking and claiming and kissing, soothing away any sharp burn from the bites with tongue and tender kisses that followed. He arched up when he felt one hand trail down his chest, fingers teasing his nipples and curling around him. Adam's arm shook more, holding him up and Kris trailed his hand down his own stomach.

He was fevered, feeling the sweat pooling at the base of Adam's spine and he dragged his fingers through it, painting invisible pictures that only they would know about and no one else would see. He kissed along Adam's jaw until Adam lifted his head and brown eyes met blue.

"I'll do it," he managed to say, touching Adam's hand with his own and replacing it around himself. He was close, and he knew Adam was. The thrusts were getting irregular and his pupils were so blown that all Kris could see was a slight ring of blue around the very edge. He kissed Adam again, like a man possessed, wanting Adam to know just how good it felt, as if their vocalisations hadn't been enough. Adam fucked like he sang, he gave everything and was perfect without knowing it.

Kris moved his hand over himself, his fingers stilling against Adam's back as he did, just pressing Adam in against him like he could meld them together into one person, one body if he only pushed hard enough. He licked his way into Adam's mouth, feeling Adam move his weight from his hands to his elbows, cupping Kris' head awkwardly to draw him deeper into the kiss, tongues duelling and fighting for the dominance that they were both already well aware was taken. But Kris never went down without a fight and as he worked himself closer to his climax, he felt Adam shudder and shake and his hand worked faster.

The kiss broke with a shattered litany of words, neither of them were making any sense and the words became sounds, vowels with no form as they got lost in the ecstasy of each other. Kris broke first, arching up like a bow, taut and ready to fire as his whole body shuddered and spasmed and he twisted his hand in Adam's hair, pressing the singer's mouth against his neck. Adam followed after a few more thrusts, erratic and desperate and he bit down over that first mark he'd left, muffling the sounds of his climax in Kris' neck and against Kris' skin, breathing heavily and kissing that spot over and over like he was apologising for the rapidly purpling bruise he had left there. Kris held him through the shakes and the shudders, kissing Adam's shoulder, neck, wherever he could reach.

Kris couldn't feel his toes, he felt like his orgasm had been ripped out of him and he'd just shot his brains over Adam and his own chest. Kind of gross, but hey. He opened his eyes and saw Adam looking down at him, usually perfect hair in disarray, lips swollen and his cheeks flushed. Adam smiled at him, soft and unguarded, an expression Kris had never seen on anyone's face and he hoped that his own smile - though it felt kind of goofy and sexed out at the edges - echoed whatever it was that he was feeling aside from a severe case of the warm fuzzies.

Adam slid out of him and grabbed a cloth to clean them both up, gently brushing it over Kris and kissing his way from Kris' navel back to his mouth, laughing as he did and their lips met again.

"Do you want me to leave now?" Kris asked finally, after they'd kissed more and done something that was dangerously close to cuddling. His head was on Adam's chest, one strong arm around his shoulders. Kris' fingers were tracing over Adam's upper arm, drawing shapes in the freckles that were there. Adam's hand had been idly turning in circles over Kris' back. It went still with the question.

Kris tipped his head up to look at Adam, trying to get a read on that reaction.

"Do you want to leave?" Adam asked, tone carefully even, like he didn't want to give anything away. The ramrod way in which he had gone still was telling enough, though.

"Not really, no," Kris admitted, settling against Adam's chest again and kissing the skin underneath his mouth. "I'm good as is."

Adam's hand didn't start moving again for a few long seconds, but when it did, it was relaxed and maybe even a little possessive. "Then don't," he mumbled, and Kris felt a kiss be pressed to the top of his head.

There was silence, that comfortable silence that they'd only ever experienced over the telephone, again and it was broken eventually by Adam's soft admission of, "I like you. You're different to everyone else."

Kris just smiled against Adam's chest and lifted one shoulder. "I like you too. I'm not sure why you're telling me, though."

He was rewarded with a flick to his ear. "Ass, I'm just saying, I don't- I mean, I just- I _like_ you. And I definitely don't want you doing that with anyone else." His tone turned a little teasing, "You have the cutest sex faces."

Kris smacked Adam's stomach lightly and the singer laughed at Kris' indignation. "You do!"

"Keep that up and me and my cute sex faces'll be going off to find someone else to share them with," Kris teased and Adam made a sound that was somewhere between a laugh and a growl, rolling them over so that he was once again on top of Kris. "Guess you'll have to convince me to stay." He was only teasing and they both knew it, the boyish grin that spread across Adam's lips as he leaned down to kiss Kris again confirmed it.

And as Kris found himself getting lost in Adam (again), he wondered if Adam had just unofficially made Kris his boyfriend.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Kradam are domesticated and Adam makes a bad decision.
> 
> _ Adam didn't let Kris out of his hotel room for two days. The thing was, they didn't have sex the whole time. Usually Adam would have considered that a waste of time, any time that they were working towards a mutual orgasm was time wasted that they would never get back, but instead they talked._

Adam hadn't let Kris leave his hotel room again for two days. He'd laughed when Kris said he had to check in with his best friend to let him know that he hadn't been kidnapped, mauled or thrown out of a window after having been mistaken for a television. Adam was mildly affronted that Kris' friends would think of him in that way, but most people thought of him as nothing but a rockstar, he didn't know why he was always so surprised.

The thing was, they didn't have sex the whole time. Usually Adam would have considered that a waste of time, any time that they were working towards a mutual orgasm was time wasted that they would never get back, but instead they talked. They actually _talked_ between bouts of mind-blowing sex and orgasms that made Adam have to check that his feet were still attached to him. He'd never laughed or connected on such a base level with anyone. He watched Kris play guitar and fumbled through the few chords that he knew himself, Kris perched behind him to correct the positioning of his left hand to make the chords ring out better and more clearly.

"You know, at some point you're gonna have to let me out of this hotel room," Kris said, his hair was ruffled and out of place, and he was wearing one of Adam's shirts. His Bowie one. He'd never let anyone wear that before and he figured it said something that he actually loved the way that it sat on Kris' frame, swallowing him because it was bigger. It made him look hotter than usual. "Because I do have a life and as awesome as this is, I need to get back to it."

Adam waved a hand and walked over, wrapping his arms around Kris' waist. Kris just leaned back and curled into him, tilting his head up so that Adam could press a kiss to his temple. "But this is your life now." As if it was that simple. It never was, but Adam wanted to pretend with Kris, because he didn't feel like a rockstar right now, he felt like an ordinary guy that had fallen for another ordinary guy. Kris made him smile and Adam didn't want to lose that. A part of him knew that as soon as Kris walked out of that door, things would be different. Everything would change because it wouldn't be just them anymore.

Kris went still in Adam's arms and Adam loosened his hold slightly so that Kris could turn around to look at him. Their chests touched as Kris curled his hands in Adam's top (that was another strange thing about the last few days; they'd been dressed for a lot of it, that also never happened and Adam wondered what Kris had done to him). "It is?" he asked and Adam looked down, blue eyes meeting brown to see a question there that he wasn't sure he had wanted to answer - aloud - just yet. He wet his lower lip and nodded.

He might not have said in as many words that he didn't want Kris to leave because he made Adam feel real, but he'd been trying to tell him with every touch and every kiss, each time he brushed his hand through Kris' hair and listened to him talking about his life, or the way that he categorised the stupid things, like how Kris picked olives off pizza to eat on their own at the end, and how Adam had started picking his off and adding them to Kris' little pile because, whilst he didn't mind olives, he liked seeing how Kris enjoyed them more.

"Yeah," he said finally, "if you want it to be."

Kris was still for a moment and some insecure part of Adam thought that maybe he would turn around and say 'actually, no'. Because Kris was too real to get involved in Adam's world of fantasy and make-believe. That was all it was, at the end of the day, so much of Adam's world was fake. It was why he wanted - needed - Kris to stay. Kris was real. Kris made him feel real.

It was a scary realisation that he'd come to, knowing that the Universe had thrown someone like Kris into his life at this precise moment. But now that he had Kris, Adam didn't want to do anything that might scare him off. Adam's life was crazy hectic and there were cameras following him all the time, Kris had had a taste of that and hadn't liked it all that much.

"Kris?" Adam started, chewing his lower lip, readying himself for Kris' rejection when he felt a hand on his cheek. Calloused fingertips brushing over skin. He tipped his head into it, turned to catch Kris' palm with a kiss.

"As long as I can leave this hotel room so I can go to work," Kris said, lips tugging into a grin that Adam just had to lean down and kiss, even if it was just to hide the fact that his own ten million gigawatt grin was trying to creep onto his face.

Adam laughed against Kris' mouth, peppering kisses over those lips and up along his jaw, underneath his ear and down his neck. Kris' fingers slid through Adam's hair and explored over skin that he'd learned, taking the time to trace and study. Adam wondered why Kris would do something like that, but when he felt fingers dragging over the curve of his spine and the way that the touch sent a shot of arousal straight through him, he knew why and he loved it.

His cell vibrated on the table but he ignored it in favour of pushing Kris up against the wall and allowing their moans to overtake the sound of his cell.

He never wanted this to end, and that meant he had to protect Kris from a lot of the craziness of his life. As he drew Kris against him again, their lips meeting in another kiss sealed Adam's silent promise: _I'll protect you._

*

It was hard to date someone and be sneaky about it. Adam knew that, he'd done it before, but this time was different. Before he hadn't minded the paparazzi getting the odd picture of him and Brad out during the day, and they practically whored it up for the cameras at night. The pictures that were out there of the two of them in drag still made Adam smile.

But Kris wasn't like that. Kris was innocent and hated getting his picture taken. The look on his face when Adam mentioned make up had him laughing for the better part of an hour. Kris was introverted and quiet and liked his privacy and Adam wanted to respect that.

If he was honest, Adam also wanted to keep Kris for himself because showing him to the world meant sharing him with the world and Adam really didn't want to do that. He didn't think it was fair that he had to share the rest of the gory details of his life with the world. He wanted Kris for himself. For him and only him. If Kris' picture was up plastered over the gossip magazines and the internet, people would be looking at him. Adam didn't want that either.

It hadn't struck him just how possessive he was before, but he had to admit that was a large part of why he had made the decisions he had.

"Do it," he said to Sandy, snapping his cell phone shut and looking over at Kris who was sitting cross legged on the floor and looking at the lyrics Adam had been trying to work on all day.

"Do what?" Kris asked, tipping his head and then making a correction to a couple of words here and there. There were musical notes scribbled above certain words too, chords.

Adam wandered over and closed his hand over the back of Kris' neck. Kris leaned into it as if it was natural and Adam smiled. "You know, I have people to write the music for me. I was just stuck with the words."

"But they're all one," Kris pointed out, tapping the edge of the pencil on the paper, "You can't have one without the other."

Adam leaned down and pressed a kiss to Kris' hair, thinking but not saying _like you and me_. It was stupid, how quickly he'd fallen for Kris, those stupid brown eyes and that ridiculous quirked mouth. And the fact that he'd suddenly started dressing in a way that was a whole lot more fashionable.

He supposed he had Brad to blame for that.

"You hungry?" he asked instead of voicing the thoughts that were going through his head. Kris didn't need to hear Adam's pathetic declarations of love just yet, they'd only been together for a couple of weeks and already it felt as natural as breathing. Adam didn't want anything else. Even though he'd loved Brad, he never felt complete the way he did now, like he'd found the missing part of his soul, the chink in his armor. "I was thinking take out?"

"We always have take out," Kris said, sounding almost like a complaint that Adam stopped halfway towards the drawer where he kept all the menus. "Do you not have any food in the fridge?"

Adam snorted, "No, but I've got that six pack of beer you promised me you'd finish."

Kris laughed. "Let's go get food and I'll cook us something. How does that sound?"

Adam eyed him warily. "I heard about your last attempt at cooking, I'm still holding out for take-out."

Kris laughed threw a pillow at Adam's head. Adam wondered just when his life got so perfect.

*

"Just for the record," Cassidy said as he stretched and rubbed charcoal covered fingers over his cheek, "I think this is a bad idea."

"I second that," Brad added, swooping in with a cloth to clean the smudge off Cassidy's face. "Ooh, that's gorgeous." He looked down at the drawing Cassidy was doing and nodded his head in satisfaction. "Adam'll look great in that."

Adam tipped his head when he heard his friends talking but he really wasn't interested in their opinions. If they had their way, he would be out every night getting drunk and high and ending up spread all over TMZ or Perez or something. He wondered if you could catch STIs from looking at the site. Probably.

"You really don't want to fuck up with this one, Adam," Cassidy continued blithely as if no one else had spoken. He did flash Brad a warm smile, though, when his face was cleaned. "And if you go ahead with this plan, that's exactly what's going to happen."

"I-"

"We know you think he's some kind of precious little flower that you can't possibly show to the world because the world is a big mean kid and it'll step on your flower, but this? This is a stupid idea." Brad waved a disapproving finger at Adam and the singer just lifted an eyebrow at his ex.

"You are the queen of stupid ideas," Adam said hotly, annoyed because his friends were supposed to support him. Granted, this was the exact reason why he loved his friends, but this time they were wrong in calling him on his bullshit because it was not bullshit. It was a great idea and it was what he needed to do to make sure that he didn't lose Kris.

"No, I think you've just stolen my crown," Brad retorted bitchily. He even folded his arms and frowned. Adam knew Brad hated frowning because it was a huge cause of premature wrinkles, and he preferred the way that he looked when he was smiling, so the fact that Brad was frowning at him really should have told him this was serious. Brad never frowned unless it was serious. "And I want it back. But I can't think of any idea that's more stupid than this one."

Cassidy snorted and continued drawing, adding in, "Because you do this and you'll never be forgiven, you know."

"You don't know him," Adam almost snapped, wanting to stamp his foot and have a proper tantrum like a child. They were being so unfair! He felt ganged up on like a kid in the playground. "He's not like that, he'd understand."

"Yeah, sure he would," Brad said, his 'Adam, you're being a dense queen' tone clear. "I'm sure he'd be fine with it, and the media thinking the same thing that he's going to be when it all comes out, and honey, you know it will."

"And I doubt you'd get a chance to explain yourself," Cassidy chimed in unhelpfully, turning over a page in his sketchbook and starting another drawing. He always got his creative fire whenever Brad and Adam were arguing. Adam hadn't understood that at the beginning, but Cassidy always seemed to appear to take a side whenever they were having a fight that wasn't about their relationship. Usually Brad's side.

Adam wished they'd just stop dancing around each other already. Then maybe he'd have a chance in an argument.

"Do we need to tell you again that this is a stupid plan?" Brad asked and Adam just huffed out a breath and turned on his heel. He walked out of the lounge area of his hotel room and into the bedroom, but before he could shut the door, Brad was there behind him with his cell phone in hand.

"Brad," he started, tone dark and warning because he hadn't spoken to Kris all day and he was not in the mood to deal with his ex boyfriend's pearls of wisdom.

He didn't realise he'd spoken aloud until he was being levelled with a look from those big brown eyes. "My pearls of wisdom, thank you very much, enlighten thousands of people." Adam knew just how proud Brad was of his youtube fans and his website. Adam never pointed out that Brad's name got out there because they'd dated. Brad never bought it up either and they were all happier for it. "And it's not my fault you haven't spoken to Kristopher all day, Adam. So don't take it out on me."

Adam rubbed his hand over his face and took his phone out of Brad's hand. "I'm still going through with this. Sandy's been on my ass because she's got it all prepared. She held _auditions_ for fuck's sake."

Brad's lips twitched in the way that they always did whenever he was trying desperately not to laugh. Whatever foul mood might have been creeping up on him due to the supremely douche-y way that Adam was acting disappeared at the idea of Sandy holding auditions. He giggled and Adam was helpless in that he had to follow suit. They were laughing a few seconds later.

"Still," Brad managed through lingering chuckles. His hand rested on Adam's shoulder and Adam could feel its warmth through the cotton of his shirt. Once upon a time that touch gave him tingles, it didn't anymore, now it was just warm and reassuring. "You're making a huge mistake."

Adam shrugged Brad's hand off. It didn't feel reassuring anymore. It felt judgemental.

"Sometimes you have to make sacrifices to protect people, Brad," he said, "And we're not talking about this anymore. It's happening. End of story."

"Alright," Brad said, lifting one hand and taking a couple of steps backwards. "But don't come crawling to me when this all blows up in your pretty face. And it will."

Adam sighed and sank onto the bed, phone in his hand. He tapped out a text to Kris. _Brad sucks. Miss you._

Seconds later, his phone buzzed with a reply. He wondered if Kris had been watching his phone the way that Adam had.

_**Kris:** Why are u doing stuff like that with him when i'm not there to watch? secondly miss you too. We meeting up tonight?_

_Can't. Work thing. Boring as hell, you'd hate it._

_**Kris:** K. See you soon then. Have fun! x_

Adam looked at the text and wondered why, all of a sudden, he felt like a supreme asshole. It wasn't too late to call the whole thing off, but some stubborn part of him wanted to carry it through just because he'd made such a fuss about it and he had to prove Brad and Cassidy wrong. What did they know anyway?

* * *

_"Singer Adam Lambert was seen out tonight at the premiere of Clash of the Titans with new boyfriend, Drake LaBry on his arm. The 28 year old singing sensation told reporters that he was "very happy" in his new relationship with the slightly younger interior decorator from New Orleans. _

Drake seemed to be the perfect doting boyfriend, hanging on every word that came out of Lambert's mouth and they even gave a kiss for the cameras before going into the theatre. They were barely able to keep their hands off each other.

Lambert has been reportedly single since his break up with internet blogger and multi-media editor Bradley Bell four years ago. Sources claim that the two are still very close friends. As for the pictures that came out last month of Adam with that young waiter?

"We're just friends," Lambert said with a huge smile, arm still firmly around LaBry's shoulders.

Well, the way that they kissed would give us reason to speculate that they were more than just friends, but we saw the way Adam's hand slid into Drake's back pocket and we're sure that neither of them actually watched the film at all.

We wish them both all the best, though. Lambert is a great guy and we want to see him happy. Just be aware that, Drake, if you're reading this, if you break his heart then the Glamberts will come for you!"


	8. Behind the Mask VIII

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kris Allen doesn't fit into Adam's world. He just wished it didn't hurt so much.
> 
> _He deserved better than to be some rockstar's hidden, unofficial boyfriend on the side. Besides, he could find a boyfriend of his own. Or a girlfriend, the whole world was his oyster, even if he was only passingly cute and not scorchingly hot. _

Kris, Charles and Cale were sitting at home. It was a nice home, moderately sized even if the hot water didn't stay hot for very long and the cupboards were falling off. So what if, when it got cold (which it didn't very often in LA thankfully) the walls cried? It was the house he shared with Charles and they were making their own way. That was what was important.

Kris hadn't heard from Adam since the day before, but he knew the singer was busy. Adam had a life that didn't involve Kris and the parts of Adam's life that didn't involve Kris were exciting and fun. The parts of Kris' life that didn't involve Adam were the absolute opposite of that. In fact, he was in a lot of trouble because even though he'd called in sick, his boss suspected that Kris had been off gallivanting - as he was, in fact - and he'd been made to work overtime without the extra pay.

Kris was sure that was against the law.

The song he'd been working on with Adam was rattling around in his brain. It had been a week since Adam had thrust it at him with a frustrated exclamation of "It's not working!" and Kris had sat down and played and tinkered until it sounded better in his head. Adam had loved it and then proceeded to show Kris just exactly how much he loved it.

The atmosphere in the apartment was off. He didn't know why, Cale and Charles seemed to be on edge. They'd had fun earlier, shooting the shit and just talking with each other, messing around and joking but even then, they were acting like they had a secret they were keeping from Kris and it made him very suspicious.

"Right. Well, I gotta take a piss and it's my turn to buy beer," Cale said with a half-shrug. He got to his feet, "Damn fucking couch is trying to eat me."

"It is, like, thirty," Charles said, giving Cale a helpful shove. "Don't you insult our couch."

Kris just poked Cale with his foot. "If you're leaving, leave. Don't just stand there in the way of the TV and insult our furniture! See if we invite you back" He teased with a grin and wiggled his fingers dismissively. He looked at his cell phone again. Why hadn't Adam texted him or something? He felt a little bit like a creepy stalker since he'd texted Adam earlier on in the day asking how his night out had gone. Charles had decided they were having a marathon movie night and watched four of the six Star Wars movies. Kris had gone to sleep dreaming of the Millennium Falcon and the people in his life kept turning up as various characters. His favourite was Adam as Princess Leia.

Cale rolled his eyes. "If you guys start _Empire Strikes Back_ without me, I'm slipping laxatives into your beers." he warned, "I mean it."

Charles laughed and Kris channel flicked, stopping when he saw Adam's face on the news.

_"And at the premiere of Clash of the Titans last night, Adam Lambert appeared wi-"_

Kris blinked as the television was turned off. Neither Cale nor Charles had actually been near the TV, but by the time he'd blinked, they were both there and looking a little panicked. Kris narrowed his eyes.

If their suspicious sudden need to watch movies all night last night hadn't tipped him off that something was wrong, their dive towards the television at the mention of Adam's name pushed the big red button marked 'WARNING' in Kris' mind. He got to his feet.

"What's going on?" he asked, realising belatedly that they hadn't even really let him out of the apartment today. It had been his turn to go out and buy beer but Charles had just taken ten dollars out of his wallet and left, Cale had gone down to collect the mail. He grabbed his phone and texted Adam: _Wtf happened last night? The 2 Cs are being weird and u havent texted back yet. Whats going on?_

Charles shifted guiltily, but didn't turn the television back on. Cale shuffled out of the way towards the bathroom because he really did need to take a piss and he didn't want to be there to see that little look on Kris' face when he found out just how much of a sleazy hound-dog Adam actually was.

As soon as the bathroom door clicked shut behind Cale, Kris walked over and turned the TV on, but that news spot had passed. Charles let out a breath he didn't realise that he'd been holding and Kris looked accusingly at him. He poked Charles in the chest.

"What?"

"Nothing." Charles said, too quickly, and he'd never really been that good at lying to Kris anyway. The guilty shifting of his feet and the way that his hands were stuck in his pockets gave it away. He barely even flinched when Kris poked him in the chest again. Kris even made sure it was a hard poke.

"I'm gonna find out anyway, so better hearing it from you before I-"

Kris stopped talking when his phone buzzed on the table and he twisted almost fast enough to make him dizzy. He snatched his phone up and ignored Charles' protest.

_**Adam:** Sorry, been busy. Press and all that. Sorry I didnt tell u sooner. Shuld have said something before i took him to the premiere. We OK?_

Kris' forehead wrinkled in confusion and he just thrust the phone and the message towards Charles. He had a feeling Charles knew.

"Explain."

It took him a moment, but when Kris all but brained him with the phone, Charles did just that. He explained. And as he explained, he saw Kris' world come crumbling down around him.

*

"You're dying to say it," Kris said once he'd finished being dumbstruck by the fact that Adam had a boyfriend. _Adam had a boyfriend_ and he didn't tell Kris and that boyfriend _wasn't Kris_. He hadn't expected it to hurt that much. "So just say it already."

Charles looked puzzled for a moment before he shook his head. "I'm not gonna, even if we had an agreement. Can't blame you for getting swept up in it, in him. The guy's a good actor."

Anger flared behind Kris' eyes. "He wasn't faking it." There was a slight desperate edge too, though, like he wanted so badly to believe that it was all real, that Adam hadn't just been fucking with him.

Charles reached out to try and temper the explosion before it appeared. Kris had a true Southern temper, it just took a long time for it to flare and explode. It was flaring.

"Look, I just- We warned you, Kris and you-"

"I did it anyway, I know." Kris' voice was tight, clipped. His phone buzzed in his hand and it was another text from Adam. He didn't look at it. He just thrust the phone at Charles' chest. "It's my own stupid fault, I know."

He turned on his heel and stalked out of the lounge towards his bedroom and shut the door hard enough that the wall shook a little and the picture frame on the wall danced. He left Charles standing there with his cell phone and an unspoken understanding that it would just be put down and not touched.

Kris heard the toilet flush and the sound of voices talking fast and low before Cale was saying goodbye and letting himself out. Charles had known Kris the longest, after all, so it was best to let him handle it, even if he had no idea how to do that.

Pulling out his laptop, Kris did a google search for _Adam Lambert_ and the first thing that came up was a gossip website with the headline about Adam's new boyfriend. It was some interior decorator called Drake LaBry. The pair had been seeing each other 'on and off' for a few weeks but finally made it official and figured that the premiere was the place to tell the world. Kris had never even heard of this guy before. What else hadn't Kris heard of in Adam's life?

He felt like an idiot, all of a sudden. Charles had been right, of course he had. Kris was a breath of fresh air for Adam. When they'd first met it had been under the guise of anonymity, masks and costumes more elabourate than anything Kris had ever worn before. It wasn't his world. And then Adam had found him, the prince charming looking for his prince(ss). It had been too perfect, Kris should have known that. It was all just fake like the rest of the world that Adam inhabited. It was all just smoke and mirrors. People wanted you for what you could give them, and in Kris' case, Adam had just wanted to be able to say that even those idiots who didn't know who he was fell over themselves and turned into stupid idiots near him. He was just that hot and magnetic.

Kris wanted to hate him, and he wanted to hate Charles too. Adam for making Kris fall in love with him and Charles for being right. He clicked on one of the links that came up from his google search.

It had a picture of Drake and Adam together, arms linked and looking happy. They were smiling at each other. Who did that? Boyfriends, apparently. Underneath that picture was one of Adam and Brad from their days together. Kris noticed a similarity between the two men; they were both shorter than Adam and ridiculously attractive. Gorgeous, came to mind. He remembered meeting Brad at the hotel, dressed as a slutty bell-hop. He chewed on his lower lip, there were other 'boyfriends' there too, and they all had one thing in common: they were far more attractive than Kris could ever hope to be. He was passingly cute, if that was a description. He couldn't match up to the stunning looks of the men that Adam dated.

He should have known, really. He was just some small-town man that was struck by the big city. Adam lived here, he belonged here. Kris was starting to think that increasingly, he didn't. After all, his music hadn't gotten him anything. In fact, he'd lost more things than he'd gained with his music; his girlfriend, his college degree and career... And he hadn't really gotten anything except exhausted since he came to LA, working harder than he'd ever worked before just to afford the crummy apartment.

The picture of Adam and Drake was taunting him. In that one, they were kissing. Simple and closed-mouthed, but intimate. Adam's hand was curled at the back of Drake's neck, the same place it was when he kissed Kris. Drake had his hands all over Adam's hips. Squashing down on the sense of possessiveness that swept over him, Kris just bit his tongue and moved to close the window when he saw another picture; the one in the coffee shop of him and Adam. He was on his tip-toes and Adam's hand was fisted in his apron.

_As for the pictures that came out last month of Adam with that young waiter? _

"We're just friends," Lambert said with a huge smile, arm still firmly around LaBry's shoulders.

"Just friends?" Kris asked the screen, wondering if he should have gotten the 'boyfriend' bit in writing from Adam. There was no way to explain the hurt that blossomed in his chest because that was messed up. That was really _really_ messed up. They hadn't been 'just friends', not in Kris' eyes.

But then that was the way, wasn't it. He should have listened to Charles and Cale. They had warned him. They'd warned him and he hadn't listened because he was stubborn and stupid and thought that he knew better. He didn't, but he'd wanted to at least try, give Adam a chance. That had been a stupid idea.

It had only been a few weeks of phone calls and text messages, conversations stolen between interviews and time spent in Adam's hotel room, hidden from the world, but Kris found Adam charming and addictive and wonderful. He couldn't imagine himself without Adam and that had scared him, but he'd stupidly believed that Adam wasn't the stereotype. That Adam wouldn't hurt him.

He supposed he was paying for that now. It was his own fault for getting swept up in it all. It was his own stupid fault for falling in love.

There was a knock at his door and he slammed the lid of his laptop shut more viciously than the poor laptop deserved, but Kris wasn't feeling the 'don't kill the messenger' sympathy at that time. He looked up and Charles pushed the door open, hesitantly sticking his head around the crack in the door.

"Hey man," he started, apologetic expression and tone. "I- your cell went off like, three times in the last five minutes. Figured I could bring it through."

Kris waved a hand to let Charles know that it was okay to come in and he just eyed his cell warily. He knew who the texts would be from. He didn't want to read them. He really didn't want to read them.

"I'm sorry I was right," Charles offered. "I mean, I- I didn't want to be after that first booty call, you know? Because you looked happy."

"Not helping, Charles," Kris said quietly before he took his phone and thumbed through his inbox. Four unread messages all from Adam. He looked at them for a long moment, trying to work out whether or not he wanted to read them and to see Adam apologising for stringing him along. He didn't know what would be worse; an apology for stringing him along or a message with 'what did you expect'.

"Sorry. D'you want me to call in sick for you?"

Kris laughed, a little incredulously. "Uh, no, I'm not heartbroken, just pissed at myself for being so stupid." he smiled and shook his head. "Still gotta pay the bills."

"That's my boy," Charles said with a smile as he left Kris to it and shut the door behind him.

Kris eyed his phone again.

_**(13.15) Adam:** Kris? We OK?_

**(13.17) Adam:** I'm sorry I didnt tell u sooner. Didnt think about it before agreeing. His names drake.

**(13. 19) Adam:** Call me when u get these? need 2 talk 2 u. Dont b mad, was just one date. Didnt mean anything.

**(13.21) Adam:** Will b in meetings till 4. Call u when I'm done?

Kris' thumb hovered over the delete button.

*

Maybe he was being ridiculous. He knew he should give Adam a chance to explain, but all of his workmates had magazines (and he really needed to find a job where he worked with more men) and they were gossiping, apparently Drake had been seen leaving Adam's house that morning, and the blogosphere (whatever the hell that was) was erupting with up-to-date news about what Drake and Adam were doing. Kris was even more pissed at the fact that Adam had taken Drake to his house. Kris had never been allowed to go to Adam's house. Maybe that just proved he was more serious about Drake than Kris.

Kris had always thought it was a little creepy that people were so obsessed with what celebrities were doing that they twatted (twitted? tweeted?) real-time updates to each other. And who cared that much really whether or not Ashton Kutcher was about to have sex with his wife? Good for him. Kris didn't want to know. Now he was greedily eating them up because he was clearly that much of a masochist. Candid pictures of Adam and Drake, hand in hand, were flooding the screen of the computer in the back room at the coffee shop and Kris just huffed and walked away.

He didn't last five minutes, though, and was back trying to pry details out of Carrie as to what was going on. Carrie just looked at him sympathetically and moved off the chair so he could see himself.

When four o'clock came around, Kris' phone buzzed in his pocket and he ignored it. There had been another picture - and a video, this time - of Adam and Drake and people were already shoving their names together in some weird little shortening. People that did that, Kris decided, were bound for a special level of hell, and already there were stories - _stories_ \- about Adam and Brad and Drake and Kris wondered why people had no lives.

He stoically ignored the buzzing and didn't listen to the answer message that was left because he was mad. He was trying to be more mad than he was hurt because that would make everything easier to deal with and easier to handle. If he was mad at Adam, then it wouldn't hurt. It was stupid logic, but it made sense in his head. He'd treated Adam like he was just a normal person and Adam did what a rockstar would do. Who was the idiot there?

Charles and the girls at work said it was Adam. Kris knew otherwise. He was the idiot for falling for his own words. Adam wasn't a normal guy, he couldn't ever be a normal guy, no matter how hard he tried, and to be honest, Kris didn't think Adam wanted to be an ordinary guy all that much. But whatever.

Whatever.

He kept his head down and worked, ignoring the looks the regulars gave him.

"Man," Andrew said, another music-playing regular who appeared at the most random of times to make Kris' life miserable, "you look like someone kicked your puppy."

"Maybe someone did," Kris replied as he cleaned cups off the table next to his friend. "With a huge, glittery platform boot."

Andrew's eyebrow lifted at the oddly specific shoe that kicked Kris' puppy and said nothing. He just went back to his coffee and Kris wondered if he was going to be a moody bitch like this for any longer because he was already tired of himself, moping around and torturing himself with pictures of Adam and his official boyfriend. Kris didn't want to be an unofficial boyfriend.

He deserved better than to be some rockstar's hidden, unofficial boyfriend on the side. Besides, he could find a boyfriend of his own. Or a girlfriend, the whole world was his oyster, even if he was only passingly cute and not scorchingly hot.

When his phone buzzed again, Kris turned it off.

*

His decision to not be Adam's unofficial-boyfriend-on-the-side cheered Kris up somewhat and he was able to go about the rest of his day - and the day after - with relative ease. He felt a lot better about the whole thing by the time he was finishing his evening shift at the coffee shop. He'd been at work - in one form or another - since 9am and it was now nearly 10.30pm so he was tired and he definitely felt like he needed to take a shower.

He tugged his apron off and was briefly glad that LA was not New York because LA did sleep - occasionally - and that meant that the coffee shops did close. Some of them were open all the time, but if his shop had been one of them, Kris might have rolled over and died of exhaustion right then and there.

As it was, he was so tired he could barely see straight. He'd been working solidly and he hadn't slept brilliantly, having some twisted dream about Brad the not-bellhop and Drake painting his walls and proclaiming him a gay fairy. Or something. Weird. Needless to say, he'd been disturbed and hadn't been able to get back to sleep. When he'd stuck the TV on, he was able to watch the red carpet footage and see first hand this Drake guy and Kris wanted to put his foot through his stupid face.

He'd thought at the time how _perfect_ it was that Adam had managed to turn him into a sociopath. He'd never wanted to put his foot through someone's face before.

But now at the tail end of his shift, Kris wanted to put his foot through a lot of people's faces, though Drake was still his number one choice. If he was going to break his dry spell of kicking people in the face, Drake would be the one he did it with. Or maybe Adam. Whichever one turned up first.

Kris had kept his phone off. He hadn't wanted to be bothered by his momma or his friends - who were all trying to be sympathetic by digging up dirt on Drake (_"Hey, did you know he's got a third nipple? And can't actually paint? He hires people to do it for him!"_) or sending him pictures of half-naked women. He'd never liked those pictures, so what possessed his friends to keep sending them to him was beyond Kris.

He'd been prepared for a barrage of messages from Adam and somewhere in his little romantic brain he'd even been prepared for Adam to send him flowers or something like that but he didn't. What Kris wasn't prepared for was walking into Adam at the service entrance of the coffee shop.

Adam looked a little pissed and took a hold of Kris' arms so that Kris couldn't walk away. He tried. He was just tiny in comparison to Adam so he didn't have much choice but to stay put when Adam was holding him. That and a fuzz came over Kris' brain when those hands were in contact with his body.

"Your phone broken?" he asked, tone a little clipped. Behind those blue eyes was a look of concern, worry. Kris might have categorised it as apprehension if he didn't know better.

"No. I turned it off." Kris said with a shrug, deciding that he wasn't going to stand still because the longer he stood still, the more he wanted to kiss Adam because Adam's bottom lip looked like it needed kissing. Then he remembered Drake and felt a little bit sick.

"Well, fuck. I've been worried. You didn't answer any of my texts and I left like, a dozen voicemails because I didn't know what the hell was going on."

Kris pushed Adam off him. "You've got a boyfriend, that's what's going on." And he sounded angry. He was angry. He was furious and he was hurt and he didn't know why Adam was allowed to come in here and act all pissed off when Kris hadn't done anything wrong. "Let go."

Adam did. He looked surprised, and then hurt and then resigned. "Yeah... I shoulda called you about that."

"You think so?" Kris asked, voice rising a little. He sounded hysterical. He needed Charles to come and slap him or something. "I think I deserved a little more than a phone call. Maybe a 'sorry Kris, I've got a boyfriend already' before we started screwing around."

"He's not my-" Adam cut himself off because he didn't know who was listening and apparently that was more important than the truth. Kris' eyes narrowed. Adam looked like he was lying. Great, more lies. Kris was an idiot.

"I'm an idiot," his mouth said without his head's permission. "I'm such an idiot because I actually thought you were something more than your stereotype. Guess I was wrong."

That worked, Adam recoiled a little. He looked hurt and shocked that Kris could say something that was kind of mean. Kris wanted to reach out and soothe that expression away. He even started to reach out but then changed his mind and shoved his hands into his pockets.

"You weren't wrong," Adam said, and Kris thought he maybe sounded a little desperate, like he needed Kris to believe he was better than everyone else thought he was. Like if Kris believed it, it could be true. At least, that was how Adam had made him feel before this stupid messed up situation had happened.

"But you kept your official boyfriend a secret from me. What kind of person does that? How stupid do you think I am, Adam? I-"

Kris didn't even know what to say and whatever words he did have disappeared when he felt a hand against his cheek. The cold press of rings against his skin and he tensed his jaw, swallowed hard. He was not going to give in. Adam's hand was gently trying to turn his head so that they could make eye contact again and when Kris' eyes dragged up to see Adam's, he bit back on his anger.

"I'm not stupid, and I'm not doing this. I deserve more than to be a secret." There was an element of self-deprecation in Kris' tone and he hated that it was there. It shouldn't be there. And he wanted to hate Adam for putting it there but he couldn't.

Adam looked like he wanted to explain. He even said, "Just- Kris let me explain what happened. It'll-"

Kris cut his words off. He'd put his hand around the back of Adam's neck and pulled him down into a kiss. It was bittersweet and he bit at Adam's lower lip almost viciously but not really because Kris didn't want to hurt Adam. He felt Adam's arm going around his lower back and the other bracing Adam against the wall as the taller man crowded him until his back was pressed up against it.

They kissed like drowning men, clutching and grabbing, desperate. Tongues and teeth clashed in a messy kiss that was as much asking Kris to stay as much as Kris was telling Adam he needed to go.

It tasted like tears and goodbye. Bitter. Kris twisted his fingers in Adam's hair and keened upwards, Adam pressed closer his hand tangled in Kris' shirt. He pressed butterfly kisses against Kris' mouth and Kris turned his head. They shouldn't be doing this; it wasn't right. It wasn't what he wanted because he was worth more than this.

"Don't do this," Adam whispered, kissing Kris' ear as he hid his face in the smaller man's neck. Kris found himself hugging Adam. "Just let me explain."

"No, it's fine. I understand." Kris said, sad because he wished it hadn't come to this. He wished he was pretty enough, or just... enough for Adam. He wasn't. "But it was a nice break from reality. I don't fit into your world."

"You could, though," Adam said voice catching a little and he leaned back to look at Kris, hands cupping Kris' cheeks and he kissed him again like that would change everything but Kris was still hurt because he'd actually fallen in love with Adam over take-outs and pillow fights, song lyrics and impromptu jamming sessions. He'd fallen in love with the way that Adam looked first thing in the morning with smudged eyeliner and freckles dotted over his skin, the rich and genuine laugh and the way that Adam was a total dork behind closed doors, a part that Kris felt special to be allowed to see. Part of a select few that Adam allowed so close. It had hurt to come to the realisation that maybe he wasn't that special at all.

"No," Kris murmured, "I wish I could but you belong with the pretty boys like Drake." He pressed another kiss to Adam's lips. Close-mouthed. Chaste. It was a goodbye kiss and they both knew it.

It shouldn't have hurt as much as it did to step away from Adam then, detangle himself from those hands that he'd come to obsess over, the things that they could do. He wished that he'd been enough.

"See you around, Adam," Kris said finally, turning away and walking out of the alley at the back of the coffee house.

He'd always prided himself on being the Allen that didn't cry. Everyone else in his family turned on the waterworks at the drop of a hat and usually Kris was left looking at them and wondering whether or not there was something he was missing. But as he headed towards the bus stop, his eyes were burning and when he blinked, a tear made its way down his cheek.

He didn't see Adam standing in the middle of the street watching him leave. He didn't hear Adam picking up his phone and calling Sandy and yelling at her for her stupid idea and he didn't hear Adam calling his name.

Then again, even if he had done, he might not have turned around.


	9. Behind the Mask IX

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In Which Adam Hatches A Plan.
> 
> _"You," Brad continued, blissfully unaware of Adam's dirty kissing thoughts, jabbing his finger towards Adam, "need to get him back." _

So, Adam's attempt at explaining what had happened to Kris had failed miserably. And Kris' phone had stoically stayed off, or he'd just put on caller ID and decided to ignore Adam's calls, and, boy, had Adam had called.

"Adam," Brad leaned over the back of the couch and took the phone from Adam's hand, canceling the call and slipping the cell phone into his back pocket. It was for Adam's own good, he knew that, but at the same time he was annoyed because who did Brad think he was? "Honey, you have got to stop sulking and calling him. You're not a girl, you're a gay man and he's not the only fish in the sea. Yes, he's cute and adorable and totally fuckable-" Adam turned his head and looked accusingly at Brad at that, "-what? He's hot. I looked. I didn't do anything else."

Adam just huffed out a breath and considered digging into his break-up ice cream stash. What did it say about him that he had a stash of ice cream for this exact scenario? He felt Brad's arms coming around his neck and he leaned back into the hug as it arrived, closing his eyes as Brad kissed his hair.

"I-" Adam was about to ask Brad why he never listened to people until it was too late but changed his mind. He didn't need a lecture from the master of short-term relationships on why he kept fucking up in his personal life. Brad hadn't had a serious relationship since Adam, and really, neither had Adam. They'd been everything to each other for such a long time that when it had ended, Adam had felt emotionally drained, empty. It had taken him a long time to feel like the Universe was giving him a second chance, but he'd found it with Kris, felt it with Kris, and he'd gone and fucked it up.

"You should have listened to us," Brad said, lips moving against Adam's hair as he pressed another kiss there. Adam's hands closed around Brad's forearm and he turned his head, kissing the edge of Brad's wrist. Brad was wearing a leather bracelet and Adam closed his eyes, taking a small comfort in the familiarity of the sensation, though he found himself missing Kris even more with the small touch.

"I know, you fucker," Adam grumbled, really not in the mood for an 'I'm better than you' speech from Brad. "Don't remind me. I know I fucked up and he won't talk to me."

"That's because you keep calling him like a creepy stalker." Brad said, like that was the obvious problem. "Seriously, it's an embarrassment. You're reaching new levels of pathetic. It's only been what, two days since he left you standing in an alley and you're moping like he stole your favourite eyeliner and stabbed Lady Gaga in the face."

"Not helping."

"Do I give a fuck? No. Because you need to hear this shit." Brad somehow managed to slink over the back of the sofa and onto Adam's lap. Sometimes it was easy for Adam to forget how flexible Brad was and then suddenly he'd do something that bent him like a pretzel and Adam would be struck with a memory of when they were together. Brad hadn't even let go of Adam's neck, he'd just adjusted and shifted his arms. "You fucked up. Big time. And now he's all hurt because he thinks that he was a random fuck."

"He wasn't though! I don't do that- he helped me with lyrics!" Adam protested, like telling Brad - who was already fully away of the situation - would solve everything. "The- the universe!" His exclamation was accompanied by a flapping of his hands.

Brad looked at him. It was the expression Adam had long categorised as his 'what the fuck, Adam' expression.

"Look, the- never mind. But he's different. He _asked me my name_."

"I know," Brad said with a sigh. "So you need to stop sitting on your butt like a princess and go and do something to get him back. Think about that movie... You gotta-"

"Which movie, Brad? I'm not a mind-reader." Adam hated it when Brad assumed that Adam knew exactly what was going on in his head. He often didn't, and half the time he wouldn't want to; Brad's head was a very scary place to be.

"Ten Things I Hate About You, obviously," Brad rolled his eyes and shifted on Adam's lap. Adam bit the inside of his cheek and resisted the urge to move Brad. It wasn't that he wasn't comfortable, it was more that it was a painful reminder that not only did he not have Kris in his life anymore like that, but he didn't have Brad either. God, it sucked to be him. "Anyway, you've basically done what Heath Ledger did to Julia Stiles without the taking of a bet. You- He totally fell in love with you. I saw it. And then you went on national TV and made out with your pretend boyfriend in front of the guy you want to be your real boyfriend."

Adam wrinkled his nose. He shoved Brad off his knee at that point and got to his feet. If they were going to have this conversation, Adam needed ice cream.

"Get away from the freezer," Brad announced. "You ate ice cream yesterday and you-"

"Make one comment about what my personal trainer will say about my current eating habits, I will kill you and make Sandy clean up the mess." Adam warned, jabbing the spoon he'd grabbed in Brad's direction.

"Fine. But don't come crying to me when you're panicking in a week because you can't get into your jeans."

Adam just grabbed the ice-cream from the freezer and was about to stick the spoon in it when Brad's words really sank in. He had a point. "I hate you." Adam couldn't afford to eat like crap; he had an image to keep up, a figure to maintain and Kris wasn't going to love someone who was spiralling back into becoming the fat ginger kid he used to be. The ice cream was back in the freezer a second later and Adam braced his hands on the counter.

"Look," Brad said from the couch. He'd made himself comfortable and stretched out across the length of it. Even though he wasn't huge, Brad managed to be long, like a cat. As if he knew Adam's thoughts, he stretched languidly. "You need to win him back, right? And that starts by you giving that bitchy interior designer the boot."

"My management would kill me," Adam said, but he was tired. Weary. Brad tilted his head like a bird surveying something that might be dangerous before he walked over and wrapped his arms around Adam's waist. "I'm tired, Brad. I just wanna be happy, is that too much to ask?"

Brad opened his mouth to say something, but Adam was continuing so he just squeezed his arms around Adam's waist reassuringly. He knew Adam was trying to fit into so many different moulds, trying to be everything that everyone wanted him to be. He couldn't fit all of the moulds.

"Kris just let me be... me." Adam confessed finally, "And I fucked that up." He hadn't been anyone else when he was with Kris; he'd been himself completely and totally. Kris had met the Adam that no one else - not even Brad nowadays - saw because it wasn't the marketable persona. It was the dorky 'shit I slept in my make-up' Adam, and the 'I love sweatpants' Adam. And in return, his real-ness had been rewarded with a beautiful and wholesome Southern man who was more real than anyone else he'd ever met, who took in the stage persona and saw past it. No one else had done that. Everyone else had expected him to perform, be that role except Kris. "Just me was enough for him." And God, it had only been two days, but Adam missed it. Missed _him_. And if that made him pathetic as fuck, then so be it. He didn't give a shit.

Brad leaned back a little and removed his arms from around Adam's waist. Instead, he just rested them on his friend's hips. "Are you serious?" he asked, tone grave like this was of deadly importance. "You didn't- I mean you were just you, and completely you?"

Adam nodded miserably. He knew his face must be a picture, all sad and forlorn and shit. He didn't do this, he didn't cry over boys. He was _Adam fucking Lambert_. It wasn't enough protection though, not when someone he'd let himself fall in love with walked away. Not when it was his own stupid fault that it happened.

"Well then that settles it." Brad said, kissing between Adam's shoulder blades and taking a few steps backwards. He hopped up onto the table in the center of the kitchen, legs dangling.

Adam turned around to look at Brad in confusion, ignoring how he was instantly reminded of Kris and the kisses they'd shared with him in that position. He pouted out his lower lip. God, this was so _unfair_.

"You," Brad continued, blissfully unaware of Adam's dirty kissing thoughts, jabbing his finger towards Adam, "need to get him back."

He would have said more, but he noticed a chip in his nail polish and wrinkled his nose. That needed to be fixed first.

*

They were all suckers for romantic comedies, and Adam had often wondered why people thought life would be like that. He used to mock people's ideas of love that came through in the movies, that kind of soul-stealing everlasting love that only ever seemed to be on the screen. People always fucked up in the most ridiculous of ways - unrealistically too - and then suddenly all that was needed was a kiss and everything was better again, well, a kiss and some overblown romantic gesture. It never worked like that in real life and the closed thing Adam had had to that was Brad and look how well that turned out.

Of course, that had been his thinking until he met Kris, then his whole life felt like a fairytale until - predictably because his life was now, apparently, some bad romantic comedy - he fucked it up.

All his scorn at movies in the past that were unrealistic was coming back to haunt him because he and Brad had brainstormed every romantic movie cliche in an attempt to find one that would suit the situation. It involved watching a lot of chick flicks.

So far the had determined that turning up and singing at Kris' work wouldn't help: Adam knew he'd just get pissed and walk out the back door and then Adam would be stuck having to sign things for people so that he didn't look like a bitchy diva whilst the love of his life escaped down a back alley.

Also, it was not dramatic enough. It was scratched off the list.

He did, however, go for the impromptu turning up outside Kris' apartment. He was dressed down, very little make up and his nail polish was chipped because he'd been thinking too much. He knew that he probably looked a washed out, un-putogether mess but he didn't care. It was only Kris, right?

Wrong. Oh so very wrong.

The guy that opened the door was so not Kris and Adam blinked stupidly a couple of times, feeling a little like a boyfriend asking his boyfriend's mother if he could come in and play.

"Is Kris here?"

"Are you Adam?"

The response was instant and maybe a little bit cold. So, protective best friend? Adam refused to let himself think 'boyfriend' because they guy didn't have socks on and it sure looked like he lived in the apartment. Kris had mentioned a room mate, Adam was praying this was him. It had only been four days: Kris couldn't have moved on that quickly. Adam knew he was fucking unforgettable.

"Stupid question, I know you are. No, he's not here. What do you want?" The name - Charles - finally filtered into Adam's head and he rubbed at the back of his neck, scratched behind his ear.

"I- I just need to talk to him. There's some stuff that I need to explain and I can't tell him over the phone 'cause he's not picking up, and I didn't want to turn up at his work place because that's lame..."

"And so turning up at his _house_ looking like you've been caught in the rain isn't lame?" Charles challenged, and the bastard had the nerve to even look a little bit amused. Adam narrowed his eyes at Charles but didn't say anything. Instead he ended up wringing his hands together, feeling a little bit like a nervous wreck. Charles frowned. "Shit, you- you actually want to talk to him."

"Yeah," Adam admitted and he swallowed. He felt shorter than normal - which was unsual for him - as the boots he was wearing didn't even have a slight man-heel. They had no heel at all. "I need to talk to him."

"Well, he's not here." Charles said apologetically, though he still looked wary. Adam couldn't blame him. As far as Charles knew, Adam had a real boyfriend and he'd just been stringing Kris along. "Why should I tell him you stopped by anyway? You really hurt him, that was a low blow, Lambert."

Another person that clearly didn't give a shit who he was. Where did people like that come from? Wait, he knew that one: Arkansas.

"That wasn't what happened," Adam started but knew that an explanation would be wasted on Charles. He probably wouldn't relay it to Kris. He looked like the kind of guy that would just step forward and shield Kris from anything Adam related.

"No? It sure looked like it. Get yourself sorted out first, then you might be able to talk to Kris, but until then back off, okay? He doesn't need you calling all the time."

Adam felt a little indignant. He hadn't called at all that day. Sure, he kept trying just in case Kris' phone was on, but after the second day he'd stopped leaving voicemails. He also felt kind of hopeful: Kris hadn't turned his phone off. Maybe that meant that he still wanted to talk.

"His momma's supposed to be calling him," Charles said as if he could read Adam's mind. "It's got nothing to do with you."

Adam just sighed and shrugged. Charles didn't have to be mean about it. Adam hated it when people said things that were unnecessary. It was totally uncalled for for Charles to have built Adam's hopes up like that.

"Fine. Just- tell him I stopped by? And that I need to talk to him?" Adam rubbed his hair, "And that I'm sorry." He took a couple of steps back and Charles made to close the door, "Please, Charles, tell him I'm sorry."

The door closed and Adam leaned against the wall. Shit.

*

Five days after Kris Allen had walked away from him, Adam couldn't avoid the suits. They wanted him to head back into the studio to finish his album. He had three songs to put on it and he'd been in the middle of a creative dry-spell when Kris had last been over. He thought that he'd gotten over the hump when they'd been working on those lyrics.

_Lyrics._

The song!

"Brad!" Adam yelled, heart hammering wildly in his chest because he thought that he might just have worked out how he could fix the mess he made. "Brad, I fucking know how to do this."

Brad was asleep, or he had been anyway until some asshole-ish ex boyfriend had started yelling and screaming in a way that should be reserved for when he was on stage or in the studio and only then. Brad had sensitive ears.

"Good for you. Go do it then." He lifted his head from where it had been buried in the pillow to grouse that in Adam's general direction. He didn't even know where Adam was, but his eyes wouldn't open properly and he probably shouldn't have had that seventh Cheektini last night. Hindsight was for idiots, though, and Brad was definitely not an idiot. Just a little stupid.

Adam didn't bother worrying about Brad's lack of enthusiasm. His idea for fixing this was genius and Kris would know exactly how he felt after it was all over. It didn't occur to him that he hadn't rung Drake yet, but then he hadn't spoken to Drake since the day after the premiere; they weren't real boyfriends, only for the camera. Drake had been disappointed when sex wasn't part of the deal he'd cut with Sandy. He was looking through the papers on his desk and in his kitchen for the one that had his lyrics on it, the ones that he and Kris had sat down and wrote together because that was not only going to be the last song on his album but it was going to be his first single.

What better way to show Kris that he loved him than by putting their song out there?

*

Of course, it was easier said than done. The guitar wasn't right on the track because it wasn't being played by Kris, the vocals were off because Kris wasn't singing in the background. Adam just felt wrong trying to perform this track to a microphone and a bunch of people in a sound studio. It was meant to be performed for Kris, for someone that he loved in a quiet setting.

Adam needed to do this, though.

"Okay guys," he said finally, tugging his headphones off. "Take five. I need a minute." And he did, he needed to make this all make sense. He reached down and turned on his cell phone. It buzzed and the interference echoed around the room, but nothing happened. There was no text message that came in and nothing that would indicate to Adam that Kris was thinking about him at all. No missed calls. No voicemails. No texts. Adam wondered if he really was that pathetic.

He closed his eyes and heard the doors shutting in the sound booth. He didn't know if anyone was left, but probably not. Taking a few deep breaths, he remembered writing the track, maybe that would help get it to sound right.

_"It's not working, Kris," Adam had complained, nudging Kris' thigh with his toes. "You can't work your magic on this one. The others maybe but this one... It's a lost cause." _

Kris had just laughed and looked up at Adam, pen sticking out of his mouth. "I can do it, look, the words are all there 'Nothing is truth in a world of make-believe'_ that's talking about you."_

"So I'm not real?" Adam asked, eyebrow arching and he folded his arms. Kris rolled his eyes and didn't dignify it with an answer, but Adam sat down behind him anyway. He crossed his legs, loving how Kris just fitted into the space between them, underneath his chin and against his chest. He kissed the back of Kris' neck and Kris had given a delighted little shiver.

"And this, '...a touch of real brings me home'_ is me." It was said so simply, so matter of fact that it had taken Adam's breath away. He kissed underneath Kris' ear this time. _

"You're what's real in my big fake world?" he'd asked, peppering kisses down Kris' neck and Kris had just sighed contentedly and tipped his head.

"Yeah, because I don't take your bullshit and you don't play pretend around me."

Adam's arm snaked underneath Kris' and scribbled in the margins nothing is what it seems when walking in the land of dreams_. Kris looked down at it and drew an arrow, fitting it into the bridge. _

He'd turned his head then, to look up at Adam. He had a splash of ink on the corner of his lips from where he'd put the wrong end of the pen in his mouth and he'd drawn on his face with it. Adam had been unable to resist leaning down and kissing the ink smudge, and then Kris' lower lip.

Kissing then was easy, practised but thrilling because it didn't get old. Kris kissed like he wanted to learn and draw songs out of Adam he didn't even know he could sing. Adam kissed Kris like he wanted to cherish him and keep him forever, he couldn't let this go because it was perfect. Kris was perfect.

They were perfect.

"That was perfect! Perfect, Adam!" LP's voice came through the intercom and Adam blinked stupidly at the glass in front of him. It was one of those one-way mirror things; the people in the sound booth could see him, but he couldn't see them. He'd thought he was alone, didn't realise he'd been singing. "We got the recording, that's just- great, Adam."

Adam ducked his head and ran his fingers through his hair, tugging the headphones off from around his neck and letting them fall to the floor. He rested his forehead in his palms and swallowed past the sudden lump in his throat. It had only been a few days. Why did he feel like his world was crashing down around his ears?

*

A song about Hollywood and the music industry being fake wasn't the greatest first single on the album, and Adam's wish for artistic integrity was vetoed in favour of the perky 'everything is awesome and life is great' song. It was playing on the radios everywhere and whilst it was a good thing because it was getting his name out there again (not that it had ever been not thrown around), it was giving out totally the wrong message.

Adam's wasn't fine. He definitely wasn't fine and it showed in the gossip magazines, on blogs and all over Twitter. He was pretty sure it exploded at one point.

He had a very public argument with Drake which involved shouting and dramatic flailing. Drake had lost his temper with Adam's repeated attempts at blowing him off and pointing out that _he_ was Adam's boyfriend, not some nobody that he'd just happened to find and fuck. Adam had lost it at that and they spent the better part of an hour shouting at each other. Even if it had been a proper relationship, Adam would have kicked his ass out for the stuff he was saying and expecting of Adam. He wasn't his on stage persona, and Drake wanted _that_ Adam, not the one in front of him. He was just another person in a long line of them that wanted Adam to be someone he wasn't. Another person in a long line of them that wasn't Kris. Drake made another comment about Kris, about how he was just after the fame and the money and Adam - for the first time ever - saw red.

It had ended when Adam punched him. Adam had never punched anyone that wasn't Neil before. Drake, surprisingly considering how gay he was, had never been punched. It was a revelatory moment. Adam's hand hurt, Drake's jaw hurt and that was the end of that.

It was a scandal: _Lambert Loses It_ and _Drake Out! Lambert Laments Love Lost_ with pictures of their argument and Adam moping on his own. Adam had always tried not to publicly mope. Clearly this time he couldn't help it. Kris was worth moping over. He didn't even have a pretend boyfriend anymore.

He'd called Neil, but his brother was no good, offering pearls of wisdom like "Maybe you should have had sex with him" and "Stop being a girl and just go tell Kristopher that you love him, are getting little hearts in your eyes for him and want his ass babies" and, the one Adam loathed most of all, "Check your email, by the way, I found a totally disturbing fanfic about you."

He ignored Brad's previous warning about ice-cream and ate half a tub before feeling awful and bloated and had to go for a run to work it off. He hated running - didn't believe in it unless he was getting chased - but sometimes it was a necessary evil.

So far, every attempt he'd made at getting Kris back hadn't worked. He ended up walking past the coffee shop and pressing his nose against the glass like some kind of loser. He saw Kris and his heart sped up, pray that Kris looked out of the window and saw Adam standing there, but he didn't.

Adam gave the homeless man outside the shop a $50 bill and told him to say hi to Kris for him. He felt a little bit better after having done that, at least.

*

"Adam! Adam! Mi hermano!"

Coming out of a photo shoot wasn't the best time for Adam to be accosted by the flame-haired teenager that had adopted him as her brother the day he told her she was an amazing singer and convinced the record company to pick her up. He loved Allison like a sister - the sister he never had since his brother was a tool and totally not helpful in any kind of situation - and adored spending time with her, but he really wanted to go home and listen to the final cut of the album. He wanted to post a copy to Kris, or conspire to have it play when he was at work or something.

"I met the cutest guy today at this coffee shop in town." she said, pulling back once she'd had her hug from him. Her brown eyes were bouncing behind glittery eye make up. Adam felt proud of himself for having taught her how to do that. "He's totally your type."

"Oh?" Adam asked, trying to be interested. His type was out there, working in a coffee shop (but it was LA, there were hundred of coffee shops and hundreds of gay boys), and ignoring him. Stoically pretending that Adam didn't exist. Adam wondered how that was working for Kris, it wasn't working for Adam.

"Yeah, his name's Kristopher - with a K, how weird is that? - and he plays the guitar and-"

"What?"

Adam felt the pit drop out of his stomach. Another sign from the Universe, clearly, if Allison had met Kris. Allison looked up at him, puzzled. "I think he's bi, if not totally gay, he was checking out some guy at the till but it was half-hearted. He looked like someone's broken him and he needs fixing and you could totally be the right person to do it." She blinked up at him, all innocence and youthfulness. "Because you kinda look like someone stomped all over your heart in stilettos too and you guys can fix each other."

Adam kissed her forehead and hugged her again, tight and fierce. Whilst it pained him to know that Kris was hurting because of him, it also made him feel a little better because that meant he wasn't being lame. Kris missed him too (or someone Kris knew had just died, but it was more likely that Kris was just missing him right?) and that meant Adam had a shot at getting him back.

Yes?

"I've got some stuff I want you to hear," he said to Allison, keeping an arm around her shoulders as he steered her towards his dressing room. "I totally need your opinion on a huge, overblown and romantic gesture too."

Allison just replied, "As long as you take me to get the purple put back in my hair," and "And give some serious consideration to that cute guy at the coffee shop. Cute and coffee, what's wrong with that combination?!"

"Well, the thing is, Alli, I already know him." He figured he needed all the help he could get in getting Kris back. After all, it was the will of the Universe that they ended up together, so what did it hurt if he was getting a bit of extra outside help?

*

His friends had nicknamed it Operation Kristopher.

Brad had wanted something far more flamboyant, like 'Operation Glitterati' or 'Adam's a silly bitch that should have listened to his friends but didn't and now needs their help to win back the love of his life', but majority ruled that Brad was an idiot and something simple was far more suited for their current situation.

It would take a couple of days for the preparations to be done, and Adam had tasked Allison (being cute and bubbly and irresistable) to go and talk Charles into taking the two tickets she was to present him with and talk Kris into attending. She'd taken the VIP tickets and flounced off. She might have been only eighteen, but she was persuasive and had it going for her that Charles didn't hate her. She hadn't stomped all over Kris' heart by having a pretend official boyfriend.

Brad had been told that he had to find the best outfits and book the venue, because he had the extensive contacts and knew how to sweet talk people into giving him what he wanted. Adam knew that talent intimately, Brad still caught him by doing it every now and then. Adam was convinced Brad was only helping out so that he could do something about Kris' wardrobe. It was terrible, but Adam kind of liked it. Brad, on the other hand, found it utterly distasteful and kind of offensive and had, at length, told Adam just what he'd like to do with all those plaid shirts.

Cassidy and Alisan helped him get the band and the DJ and numerous other things that Adam needed them to do. Cassidy had been peeved, at first, that Adam had put _Brad_ in charge of the costumes, but Adam promised that Cassidy could do his own and make the necessary tweaks to Adam's. They both loved Brad's sense of style, but if he had his way, he'd be walking around in chaps and a netted shirt.

Adam was warmed to know that people were rallying together to help him. All the people he turned to (with the exception of Allison) were ones he'd known for years, since before he made it big. He was glad that he hadn't become such a bastard that his friends wouldn't help him fix the mistake he and his publicist made.

And Sandy? Well, she was creating an epic guest list. Filling it with wonderful people in an attempt to make Adam less angry at her. He still hadn't spoken to her in full sentences since the premiere and until he had Kris back, he wasn't going to.

Operation Kristopher was a go.

Adam only hoped that it worked. If this didn't, he was out of ideas.


	10. Behind the Mask X

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which things come round full circle.
> 
> _"It's another costume thing, isn't it." he asked, voice deadpan and unimpressed. "So I have to find a costume."_
> 
> Charles just grinned and pushed off the wooden frame. "Yeah, and going as a cowboy stopped being cool when you were twelve, it won't fly now."
> 
> "I hate you."

To say that Kris had been reluctant to go to this party would be an understatement of epic proportions. Kris had tried to work overtime at the cafe, signed up to give blood (and he hated needles ever since his missionary experiences) and even considered getting a plane back to Arkansas. Charles had told him to man up and stop being a child. The party would be fun and they were going whether Kris wanted to or not.

"You don't even need to go hunting for a costume, man, 'cause you've got one." Charles said and Kris narrowed his eyes.

"I am _not_ going anywhere dressed as a goddamned fairy. I'm not even going out. You can go to this party on your own." Kris said, sharp tone in his voice because he was not in the mood to deal with Charles' shit tonight. He'd heard Adam's new song on the radio all day and whilst it was good that he had a new album out and that it was doing well (_whoopdedoo_ Kris' not at all bitter mind added every time he thought about Adam's success), Kris really didn't need to hear about Adam.

He didn't want to hear about Adam. It was made worse by the fact that everyone in his life wanted to tell him about Adam and what happened. One of the regulars who had guessed what happened appeared with a magazine that, in obnoxiously bright print, declared Adam and Drake's relationship over. It didn't help because Kris was still mad that he hadn't been told in the first place. He was a little annoyed that everyone expected him to just drop everything and run back to Adam, considering what had happened, he felt he was well within his rights to get distance and have space. He wasn't doing anything wrong by not just running back to Adam because he'd broken up with his real boyfriend.

"I'm not going out, I don't feel like going out and there's no point in my going out because it's not going to get me anywhere."

"Alright, grumpy-pants," Charles drawled, folding his arms and leaning against the door frame. "I'll make you a deal."

Kris eyed Charles warily. The last time they'd made a deal, Kris had gone out for coffee with some industry executive as his end of it and nearly ended up in the back of his car sucking him off. "No industry moguls with a hard on for young men," he said as a condition. "What is it?"

Charles tapped his fingers against his upper arms. "You come to this party and stay until midnight," he started with look of fairly deep thought on his face, "and try and enjoy yourself, don't run out the door or be a total buzz kill and I'll leave you alone about this whole Adam thing and I'll even get off your back about getting that record deal I know you're more than capable of getting."

It was tempting; Charles had been bugging him about getting signed and getting out there and meeting people to become a recording artist since before they even moved to LA. Granted, the move was so that Kris could pursue his music and Charles could ride on his coat-tails and meet famous, beautiful women, but since being here, that dream had been a little broken. Squashed because Kris wasn't the kind of person to be the corporate whore that he needed to be to get anywhere in the world.

Rubbing his hand over his face, he looked at Charles seriously for a moment. He was seriously considering the offer. As if his mind was being read, Charles added a moment later, "You're not allowed to leave before midnight, no matter what."

It sent an alarm bell ringing in Kris' mind, but he nodded his head anyway. "Fine. I'll go. But I'm not wearing that stupid fairy outfit."

Charles stuck his hand out because it wasn't official until they'd shaken hands on it. When they were kids, they used to think that if they'd shaken hands and then they broke the sacred handshake agreement, their heads would explode. They'd long since learned that that was ridiculous and not true, but there was definitely something important about handshakes and how they represented some deep, brotherhood bond that should never be broken because it was just wrong.

Kris eyed his hand for a minute before he closed his hand around Charles' and shook it firmly. Charles looked way too happy with himself and Kris let go to rub his palm across his eyes. What had he just gotten himself into?

"It's another costume thing, isn't it." he asked, voice deadpan and unimpressed. "So I have to find a costume."

Charles just grinned and pushed off the wooden frame. "Yeah, and going as a cowboy stopped being cool when you were twelve, it won't fly now."

"I hate you."

"Nah, you love me. You just don't know it yet." Charles grinned and turned on his heel, glad to see that Kris wasn't so depressed. He hated mopey Kris, it felt like the whole world was off-kilter when Kris was depressed.

"Get out of here," Kris complained, waving a hand at Charles to leave him alone because he was writing lyrics, and sure they were all depressing and full of how lonely he was, but it was better than nothing.

When the door shut behind Charles, Kris flopped back onto the bed. In hindsight, he'd probably been overly dramatic in his attempts at squirming his way out of the way. It had been a low blow, though, of Charles to come _into his room_ to harangue him into going to this thing. Again he'd managed to score free tickets. Kris hoped he wasn't pimping himself out or anything to get them. Kris would feel like a really sucky friend if that was the case.

God, he really hoped it wasn't.

He looked at his wardrobe despairingly before he rubbed a hand over his face. Right, he needed to get a costume before the end of the week. That left him two days. And no, he hadn't remembering that it was a whole week since he'd last spoken to Adam, why?

And he definitely, _definitely_ wasn't moping. Adam wasn't worth it. So what if he'd made Kris feel incredible and important, like Adam's world was somehow less if Kris wasn't in it? So what? Kris knew that there were other people out there that were just as perfect for him. Maybe not as entirely perfect and puzzle-piece fitting for him as Adam, but that was fine because Adam was a douche.

He still hadn't listened to the voicemails, but he had kept them on his phone for some reason. A part of him couldn't quite let go of Adam so completely, and maybe in the future he could play them and remember that, once upon a time, he knew Adam Lambert.

Maybe in that magical future, thinking about how he knew Adam Lambert wouldn't hurt.

*

"Are you sure he got the tickets?"

"Yes, I'm sure! I gave them to him myself."

"And he's definitely coming?"

"He said he'd do his best to get him to come, but he couldn't- he said he couldn't promise anything. But I'm pretty sure he'd give it a try because he seemed really nice."

"...Really? He seemed kind of like a bear when I saw him."

"That's 'cause you broke his boy's heart."

"Don't remind me. I'm trying to fix it."

"I know! And it's so _cute_!"

"Hush, I'll see you tonight?"

"Wouldn't miss it for the world. I hear they've got disco balls and everything."

"Well, that's what I get for letting Brad and Cassidy fight over the decorations, I suppose."

"Ooh! I gotta go! Dani's here. She's gonna help me with my make up. Love you, looking forward to tonight!"

"Yeah, me too."

*

Adam raked his fingers through his hair for the eighth time in the last ten minutes. He was going to need to shower again because he was going to end up making his hair greasy, but he couldn't stop it. He kept running through the plans in his head, over and over. The set list was knocking around his mind and he hummed songs that weren't his own as if that would calm him down and stop him being so nervous.

It didn't help. His palms felt sweaty and Adam hated nerves. He hated nerves almost as much as he hated any kind of physical exertion that made him sweat that wasn't singing. He rubbed his palms against his thighs and wrinkled his nose.

"Pull yourself together, Adam," he muttered, rolling his head and shaking his limbs out. It was what he used to do backstage when he was on Wicked and The Ten Commandments. "It's just a performance."

Never mind that he would be laying his heart on the line, putting himself out there in a way that would be shown on youtube endlessly, and it wasn't even a sure thing that Kris was going to be there. God, what would he do if Kris didn't turn up? He wasn't quite sure. He didn't know if putting himself through the emotional wringer would be worth it if Kris didn't turn up to see it.

He still had three hours before he had to be at the venue and four hours before the party was starting. Adam thought maybe he could sleep and pass the time, but then he was way too wired to sleep, too nervous, like a spring coiled too tight. Jerking off wouldn't work either, orgasms were never a good plan before he sang, and besides, thinking about Kris like _that_ was a bad idea too because, yeah, he needed to focus.

He could just take a really long shower and then take his time in getting ready. After all, he had to look perfect. And perfection didn't happen instantly.

*

The party kicked off at seven, and Kris was no where near ready because he really didn't want to go. Despite promising Charles that he would, he really was not in the mood for partying and socialising and schmoozing with the industry executives. He was highly suspicious, too, because of how pushy Charles had been with getting Kris there.

He looked at himself in the mirror. He looked stupid, at least, he thought he did. He hadn't caved and dressed as a fairy again at first because he thought that he'd be able to find a different outfit, but as the days had gone past and the end of the week had crept up on him out of nowhere, Kris had ended up digging the elabourate green wings out of his closet. He had eyed them for a long moment before he'd changed into the rest of his outfit.

Charles had found him a pair of black jeans that clung to him like a second skin and laced boots that ended halfway up his shins. They had a platform and Kris didn't understand _why_ Charles had a pair of black platform boots in his size, but he really didn't want to think too hard on it. It made his head hurt. A tight white t-shirt completed the outfit and he had pulled the wings on last.

The mask was green and glittery and it was fastened to his head by a strip of elastic. Every time he blinked his eyelashes got caught on the slits. That was going to get annoying, but the idea of taking it off made his stomach twist uncomfortably, never mind that this costume was almost exactly the same one that he'd first met Adam in, kissed and dragged off like some kind of fairytale princess, found by his prince.

It was lame.

"I'm not going," he called through to Charles and fiddled with the elastic that fastened the wings to him. "I can't do this."

He thought he'd be okay wearing the stupid fairy outfit, but he wasn't. He wasn't ready to deal with the fact that it reminded him so much of Adam that it hurt. He rubbed at his mouth and pushed the mask up his forehead so that he could dig his fingers into his eyes. He swallowed past the hurt.

Charles appeared with one hand on Kris' shoulder a second later. He was dressed in a Superman outfit and it bought a smile to Kris' face, fleeing as it was. Of course Charles would dress up as Superman, it made a weird kind of sense.

"Dude, just calm down. It'll be fun. We'll have a good time, and you're not allowed to leave before midnight, remember Cinderella?"

Kris rolled his eyes. He swallowed and rubbed the back of his neck before he shrugged Charles' hand off his shoulder. He'd shaken on it. He had to go. Didn't mean he had to enjoy himself; it was going to be the worst five hours of his life. Particularly if the DJ played Adam songs.

God, the world hated him.

He looked at the clock. 6.30. Time to be leaving because Charles had an obsession with arriving ten minutes early to everything and the tickets that they had had VIP embossed on them and that meant they could get in early, got a special bracelet and free drinks all night.

"Let's get outta here, Tinkabell." He felt Charles' hand clapping him on the shoulder again and he almost staggered under the weight of it. Sometimes Charles forgot that Kris wasn't anywhere near his six feet in height, and that when he slapped Kris on the back or on the shoulder, sometimes he staggered under the weight of it because Charles was strong, man.

"Call me that again," Kris grumbled, shoving at Charles' side, "I dare you." He'd gnaw his kneecaps off.

*

"Relax, princess," Brad said as he touched up the last of Adam's make up. He'd forgone the mask this time and had a strip of glittery blue over his eyes, elabourate swirls decorating the sides of his face and his temples, stopping short of his hairline. Adam blinked, feeling the familiar weight of mascara and the slight tight sensation of the glittery make-up that Brad had adorned him with. "Stop moving. You're gonna ruin it and people are already arriving. You need to be up on stage in about ten minutes and you're nowhere near ready."

Adam opened his mouth to say something when Brad just narrowed his eyes at him a little bitchily. Adam closed his mouth obediently and just let Brad finish the make up and hair.

"How did this happen? You're not- Wait, I know exactly how it happened. You're nervous again, aren't you." Adam just lifted one shoulder in a shrug because Brad was lining his lips and knew that there was no point in talking; Adam would just get even more bitched out. "He'll be here, of course he'll be here. How could he not be? I'll be keeping an eye out for him anyway."

Adam just breathed out heavily through his nose, letting Brad put the finishing touches on his make up. "Honey, it'll be fine."

It was always unusual to see Brad's forehead creasing in worry or concern because Brad was very concerned about wrinkles, but Adam's lips pulled into a soft smile. "I know," he said finally, "I just need this to go right, you know?"

"You barely know the cutie," Brad muttered, hands on his hips before he lifted one hand at Adam's opening protest, "I know, the Universe," his hand waved dismissively even though they both knew he bought into the fate and astrology stuff even more than Adam did. "I hope the Universe is right. I don't want it breaking your heart."

Adam tilted his head when he heard the music starting and knew that he had to go on stage now and give the performance of his life. Brad would be off to the side, watching the crowd, waiting for some kind of signal or glimpse of the ever elusive Kris Allen.

He stood up and put his hands on Brad's shoulders. "It won't," he said finally, trying to reassure himself as much as Brad. "It's not that mean." He leaned down and pressed the tiniest of kisses against Brad's lips and then he moved away.

"You _bitch_! I just did your lipstick!"

*

The house lights went down and Kris' internal alarm went mental because there was the opening of guitar music and he walked backwards and into Charles' chest. He felt very much like he'd been tricked.

"You-"

"You promised me that you'd not leave before midnight," Charles reminded before he patted Kris' arm. "Just relax, man, it'll be okay. You'll see."

When Adam walked on stage, Kris felt sick. Adam looked so good, if not a little thinner than before but he'd been busy, working. Kris squashed down the concern that warred with an arousal that pooled in his stomach when he saw Adam, remembering the kisses and the touches, and the way that Adam had made him see stars. He swallowed and his hands curled into fists at his sides. He wasn't thinking about it. He wasn't thinking about it and he wasn't dealing with it.

"Hey everyone," Adam said, standing on the stage and soaking up the lights. The glitter on his skin and in his hair made him look ethereal, like some kind of god. "So, I'm gonna play a few of my own songs tonight, but mostly I'm- I've got a different setlist, and it might not work for all of you, but I kinda need to tell someone something and I suck with words. Last time I did that, I kind of messed everything up."

The crowd kind of went silent and everyone was looking at Adam. It happened all the time, no one should be surprised because it was _Adam_. He drew that kind of attention to himself, he commanded their total reverence and respect just by walking out onto the stage. What confused Kris was that there wasn't as much of a persona right on the stage, it was Kris' Adam. Not quite, but close. Kris felt his heart hurt.

Adam launched into the music, playing songs from his first album, dancing and singing his heart out. Kris knew that Adam gave everything, he was exhausted after a performance because he put himself into it. He watched, itching to touch Adam because some of the songs he was singing made Kris' heart hurt.

"So, uh... I- These next songs are for you. You know who you are."

The crowd's sound was teasing but Adam's voice was sincere, soft and questioning, like he didn't even know if Kris was out there. Of course he did. Kris felt irrationally angry at Adam because he'd planned this, and he felt angry at Charles for taking Adam's side over his in this whole stupid situation. But then the opening chords of _Use Somebody_ started and Kris was as enraptured as the rest of the audience. The dancing and the merriment had stopped, the drinking and the talking as people listened to Adam singing his heart out. Each word was so sincere: _you know that I could use somebody, someone like you_.

Even though Kris knew Adam couldn't see him, and he couldn't because Kris could barely see the stage, hidden behind people who were all freakishly tall (because he refused to believe that he was just freakishly short: everyone in LA grew up drinking miracle gro), Kris felt like Adam was singing right at him, like those blue eyes were piercing through his damn soul.

The next song was One Republic's _Come Home_, heartfelt and honest and Adam's voice wavered in the middle of it, the lyrics of the chorus touching a point that was so obviously close to Adam's heart that the audience wanted whoever it was that Adam was singing to to rush up there and make it all better. There was a pain, a rawness in Adam's tone that made Kris wonder if he'd just walked out on someone who was totally genuine. What if he'd walked out on the real thing? He chewed his lower lip. His body was begging him to run up to Adam and stop him singing, stop the pain in his voice and tell him that it's okay, that he could explain everything and then maybe Adam would smile again, but he didn't. His heart thumped behind his chest and he knew that Charles was standing just beside him, watching Kris to make sure that he didn't try to bolt, or that he didn't do something girly like break down and cry.

Kris was the Allen that didn't cry, Charles knew that.

The song came to a close and Adam looked wrecked. He took a sip of water and his chest was heaving. He refrained from looking over at Brad, who he knew was standing just out of sight. He sat down on the stool that had been - up until that point - unused and took a breath, curling his hands around the microphone.

"This song's a new one from the album. It's the last track on there and I wrote it with someone who's very... special to me." He swallowed and closed his eyes as the guitar started. It wasn't right, nothing was. Kris was the only person that could play the song right, but Kris wasn't on stage so he had to deal with it.

The lyrics flowed out of Adam like water down a hill, a cascade of emotions about being lost in a world that wasn't real, surrounded by fakes and in desperate need of an anchor. _'Nothing is as it seems when walking in the land of dreams'_ spilled from Adam's lips and he wasn't in the room even though his eyes were open. It was easy for Kris to see that Adam was remembering when they wrote the music, the sad curve of the smile on Adam's mouth made Kris' heart tug painfully, it lurched in his chest and he wished that they'd had a chance to speak.

He wanted to go home. He wanted to speak to Adam, he wanted to hug Adam.

_'Floating in deception with nowhere else to roam but you, you're sweet perfection; a touch of real that brings me home.'_

The song ended on a hauntingly high note, a swansong calling for his mate. Kris had backed up during it, unable to think, barely able to breathe. He found a wall and pressed himself against it, forehead against the cool paint because he felt sick and scared. That was their song. It was their song and Adam was singing it _to him_. It made his heart hammer and thump and twist and lurch and he felt dizzy and elated, scared and excited. He didn't want to look but it had been so hard to tear his eyes away. Adam created conflicting emotions in Kris, from the very moment they met.

Adam thanked the crowd and looked over at Brad. Brad had been searching tirelessly for any sign of Kris, anything that might indicate that Kris was there but he hadn't seen anything. When Adam's eyes fell on Brad, Brad shook his head, his lips turned down in the corners slightly. Everyone saw how Adam's shoulders deflated, his whole posture became defeated. Kris had turned back just in time to see the silent communication between the two and that made up his mind. That sold it for him. He knew exactly what he had to do.

*

Adam felt ruined. Kris wasn't there. He didn't want to mingle and play nice because this whole thing had been created to draw Kris out and make Kris see that Adam wanted him, that _loved_ him. Brad offered him a hug and the crowd were being suitably cheerful and praising him with their cheers and applause, but Adam didn't want any of it, he didn't want to hear it because Operation Kristopher had failed.

He was officially out of ideas.

"Go on, baby," Brad said softly, kissing Adam's shoulder as he passed, "go out and play nice. I'm sorry."

Adam just sighed and shrugged, ignoring the look Allison shot him. If she hugged him now, he might burst into tears and that would ruin the careful make-up job that Brad had done. That wouldn't do, not until the end of the night. What Adam did need, however, was alcohol. Lots of alcohol.

He worked his way through the crowd, barely stopping to acknowledge anyone until he felt a hand curl around his wrist and tug him to a sharp stop. He turned and was about to ask 'what the hell?' when he was being kissed. It was familiar, the taste against his lips and the hands messing up his hair. _Kris_ his brain was telling him and he reacted as if it was, pulling the body against him. He felt his lower lip get caught between teeth and groaned, losing himself in Kris' taste and touch, tongue flicking over Kris' lower lip. It felt like the first touch of water after being stuck in a drought and he couldn't get enough, but he had to be sure, he had to know he wasn't just imagining things.

When he opened his eyes and broke the kiss and tugged off the mask, it was Kris' brown eyes that were sparkling up at him.

Kris felt like a princess as he felt Adam's arms go around his waist. He clung to Adam and hid his face in Adam's neck, feeling lips against the top of his ear and Adam breathing soft words that made no sense and couldn't be heard over the bass music anyway. He leaned back, cupping Adam's face with both of his hands and pressing his lips against Adam's and kissing him soundly and thoroughly, feeling his feet coming off the ground as Adam picked him up. Then they were spinning, spinning and laughing and kissing and Kris felt the weight of the last week falling off his shoulders.

Adam didn't even know why he'd picked Kris up, but somewhere along the line it seemed like the best idea and he couldn't stop kissing Kris now that he was there. They were all light and chaste but each kiss said _I missed you_ and _I need you_ and _I love you_ and _Don't leave me again_. Each kiss was a promise and a vow and a solemn statement that this was it because they couldn't work without each other.

At some point, glitter started raining from the ceiling and it was going to be a bitch to clean off but they didn't care. Adam felt like he'd finally got his happy ever after as he breathed against Kris' lips, trusting Kris to feel rather than hear his soft, _I love you_. The way that Kris' fingers tightened in his hair told him that he'd heard, and the way that Kris kissed him again, body pressing up against his flush and trusting told him _I love you too._

* * *

_"We sat down with singer Adam Lambert earlier on this week to discuss his controversial impromptu concert and his new boyfriend who was sitting in the back, looking cute and troublesome. They had been canoodling before we arrived and both looked guilty as charged before Kris extracted himself from Adam's personal space, promising to 'behave'. _

Adam looks happier than we've seen him in a long time as he kept shooting looks over at his boyfriend from across the room, barely paying any attention to what we had to ask, but he answered our questions honestly and candidly, were we talked about how he was living in a hotel, **"I hate my house, it's not my house, I feel more at home here. The house is fake, like a lot of the world and I don't want to live in it"** and his impromptu concert **"I kinda screwed up,"** he admits, looking sheepish and rubbing the back of his head, **"and I had to tell Kris that I loved him in a way that he'd actually understand since he wasn't answering his phone or letting me see him."**

Kris just grins from the corner of the room and shrugs innocently before he calls over that Adam was being difficult and that we had to wrap the interview up because Adam had a telephone interview to do and we will admit to getting side tracked. But our final question was the most important: we asked him 'Are you happy?' and he looks over at Kris. His lips are curled into a soft smile and we know the answer before he's even said anything. It's in the way that his eyes soften and his whole body relaxes when he looks at Kris, the way that Kris' expression does exactly the same.

**"Yeah,"** he said, unashamed and not looking away from his boyfriend, **"Yeah, I really am."**


End file.
